


Ground Fire

by IreneClaire



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 79,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While escorting a convict from Oahu to the Big Island who is critical in turning State's evidence in a high profile case, Danny and Kono are presumed dead after the small plane crashes. With time ticking and more lives on the line, it's up to Steve and Chin to find them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER ONE - _Prelude_**

 

Closing his eyes Douglas Pratt hung his head in despair. The receiver to his desk phone was still in his numb fingers and he only thought to move when the now dead line switched to the bland and repetitive reorder tone.  Pratt jolted and hissed in shock as his office door opened in its typical rush.

"Andrea." He choked out her name, but as usual his Legal assistant was hurried and oblivious to his distress. But for once, he didn't lace her with an acidic rebuke demanding she knock when his door was closed.

"Doug, these documents for the Totorro case are urgent and require your signature. I've reviewed the addenda and there's nothing out-of-order." Tossing the short stack of papers under his nose, Andrea folded her arms meaningfully and waited.

Sweat dotted his forehead and as Doug weakly leaned back in his deep leather chair, he locked his gaze with Andrea Winston's. Her stance was different, willful and defiantly antagonistic and in that moment he knew.

"I'm waiting, Doug. Sign them." Looking from his eyes to his phone and then back again, Andrea drummed her fingers across the material of her silk blouse. She smiled coyly as he sloppily committed his signature blindly where indicated on each of the legal forms.

"Good. Thanks, boss." She waited after accepting the sheaf back only to place them neatly in a blue folder which was then slammed under her arm. Pratt's mind short-circuited as Andrea remained anchored in place. Finally rolling her eyes with mock aggravation, Andrea grinned.

"Files. Remember? You wanted me to shred particular files for you today."

"Uh." Doug blinked in alarm as sweat began to streak down into the collar of his dress shirt. He thought he'd have more time to work out a plan or call the police or to come to a different decision. He wanted choices and needed time but was now truly on the verge of panic.

Until that very moment, Douglas Aaron Pratt, Esquire and well-respected defense attorney, had no clue that his own Legal Assistant was the enemy.

As his discomfort grew and he fumbled for the important files in his drawer, Andrea smiled. "And when you give me those, I want that spare thumb drive you keep in the safe."

"There's nothing in the safe." Pratt objected with little credibility as he yanked the files out. Nearly dropping the paperwork in his shock, he noticeably blanched at Andrea's demanding correction.

"No, not the office safe. The other one. You know the one that I mean. The one in your private bathroom and behind the fake medicine cabinet over the sink." She was practically purring in delight. Yet it was startling that she even knew about that private safe which had been installed only under his direction two years earlier. It pre-dated her employment at the firm in fact.

However, he virtually passed out as his chest clenched in fear at Andrea's final calmly offered threat. She made it as she first caressed the framed family portrait on his desk and then blatantly laid it face down on his over-sized, chocolate-brown leather desk blotter.

"You do want her back, alive. Don't you, Mr. Pratt?"

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	2. Chapter 2

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWO _  
_**

 

For the first time, Steve's face was an open book communicating utter disbelief as he surveyed the plane's wreckage in the increasing dusk. He easily understood why the Coast Guard was relaying lack of confidence in locating any survivors. It was his emotional brain and very being that refused to accept that near-declaration.

It was overcast and due to rain again. Half the plane's wreckage rocked precariously on the surf-drenched craggy rocks with each rising swell. While a portion nosed wet sand where the one propeller should have been, the rest was a mass of twisted debris and nearly completely covered by seawater. Barely identifiable passenger seats were submerged to the rear. One wing had been literally torn off and had just recently been retrieved by a Coastie rescue cutter.

The supposition was that the pilot had tried to land on the water. By all appearances, it looked like he had at first succeeded to hop-scotch hard towards the rocky outcropping. But the underwater landscape was unforgiving and had snared the plane's wheels, a wing .. or  _something_  .. to send it on a final half-cartwheel towards land.

"There's no sign yet of the three others." Steve stood next to Chin in waters that were now waist high. Buffeted by wave after wave, he was resenting every word that the Coastguardsman respectfully and ever so kindly tried to explain.

"The pilot and co-pilot were both dead when we got here." The Coastie stated the obvious as they absorbed the positions of the two bodies still stuck in the wreckage. He then grimaced before gesturing towards open waters. "A third body was found floating face down in rough storm surge about two hundred yards out. He was wearing an FBI jacket and he was probably ejected upon impact."

He watched intently as the two Five-0 officers remained quiet but not exactly motionless. "We .. uh .. are looking for the three … uh .. other … victims." The Coastie, Abrams, was sensitive to their predicament and to the nature of those involved in the crash as he carefully chose his words.

"Choppers are up and we have feet on the ground searching the beach and inner jungle here. But there's nothing to indicate that anyone would do that." Abrams felt as if he were speaking to himself, though he was sure the two men heard each word he said. In his personal opinion and only if they were lucky, would they be recovering three more bodies eventually from the rough waters. The Piper was a mass of twisted metal and bloody carnage. Except for what was now the final location of the pilot's body, it was nearly impossible to identify by sight where the cockpit had once been.

Still, the men remained silent and so, Abrams shut his mouth about his personal feelings. Besides being nearly pummeled by the relentless waves, the Commander was absorbing every minute detail of the destroyed Piper.

"Ground fire. Probably from a boat." Steve spoke solely to Chin as he fingered a bullet hole and then three more in the ruined metal which clearly validated that the Piper had not been affected by poor weather. His jaw clenched worriedly as the water momentarily swirled lower and he spotted three more random bullet holes in a twisted passenger seat. Streaks of blood stained sections of unidentifiable bulkhead material.

He and Chin would need to move for the teams arriving now despite the inclement weather. Their jobs would be to secure what remained of the plane and to remove the two deceased men. However, it was clear to him at least that the pilot and co-pilot were assisted in death based upon the multiple bullet wounds arcing through their bodies. He didn't doubt that their medical examiner would find additional bullets in FBI Agent Ruiz's body retrieved from the waves.

"I agree they went down off shore. But I absolutely do not agree that this is quite yet a recovery." Steve's last word was meant for Abrams who took the verbal abuse in stride.

"We have three people out there. I want them found." Completely in stubborn agreement with Steve, Chin nodded at the demand as they half-swam and stumbled to higher rocks to pick their way to the unforgiving beach. Crews passed them on the way with equipment they would use to lash the metal together and, with luck, get it to a temporary home on shore.

"They aren't dead." No one heard him nearly swear out the three words. Only Chin noted that Steve's fists were clenched as he surveyed the wreckage from yet another angle and then the darkening ocean beyond.

"Call HPD. Contact Duke and have a full investigation opened against every single person involved with this mission. I don't care what he does. House arrest, jail or handcuffing them to their own beds. No one talks. No one is allowed access to a phone or computer until we get our people back."

Turning away as high winds buffeted spray directly into their faces, Chin did as he was instructed. It took time and he was impatient even with himself as he ended the call with HPD Sergeant Lukela.

Before him, Steve was stalking the beach and uselessly searching the waters. Every so often, he would turn and study the jungle behind them. In kind, Chin also turned and surveyed the bleak thick trees and vines. After receiving the distress call from the supposed secure private transport from Oahu to the Big Island, support teams had been instantly rallied to the relayed coordinates.

The Coast Guard had arrived within forty-five minutes explaining their distressing finds which worsened by every long, slow minute.

_"_ _Crash site located. No evidence of survivors. Two confirmed dead. A third body retrieved. Search continues … weather blowing in … secure what's left of the wreckage."_

By the time, he and Steve had arrived on scene, they had a rather acute image painted in their frenetically stressed minds. Chin beat down demons that threatened to prove Kono was somewhere floating dead in the rough waters just offshore. The same evil thoughts envisioned Danny face-down, drowned or riddled with bullets.

He rubbed his face hard to force the painful unwelcome musings away. They had three dead and three missing. Instead of fearing loss, they needed to focus on the more positive possibilities. The preferred chances which gave hope that their friends had indeed, escaped.

"The jungle?" Chin needed to move as much as Steve. With the Coasties covering a controlled water-based patterned search grid, the two could .. and would .. manage their own mission of sorts.

They would go further inland and delve much more deeply than the small Coastie team dispatched to check the beach-head. The more Chin considered the facts of the crash, the more he felt a strong urge that it was the right one. Three of the lesser important individuals had been killed; the three higher profile individuals were oddly missing. It was a weak fact, but a fact nonetheless. It gave Chin hope that they were alive and on the run. Without a doubt, the facts he chose to listen to solidified his next decision.

"Steve. Let's gear up and get going. They're here." Chin was firm in his intent as he turned back to his friend. "They have to be. We're going to be their best bet if they made it to land."

"They made it to land." Flatly stated, Steve whirled angrily away from the plane to stalk towards the HPD chopper he'd commandeered earlier. They would take time to only change wet socks and boots for dry pairs. Then they would converge on the jungle aggressively. As he stared at the back of Abram's windbreaker, Steve ground out a simple statement under his breath. "There's actually nothing to indicate that they didn't go in there .. in fact, there's every reason for them to do just that."

Chin was already by his side and rummaging for new footwear. Though it had already been said and they were working in unison, Steve said it again. "Gear up. We bring them home - then we deal with our inside leak."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	3. Chapter 3

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER THREE**

 

Kono wrapped her hand firmly around the trembling bicep of Mr. Al Totorro; the one man on earth who could send Carl 'Angel' Totorro to a maximum security prison for life. The former mafia-owned accountant was small, wiry and down to his thick glasses - ( _which were now lost somewhere inside the depths of the plane's wreckage_ ), - every bit the epitome of what a desk jockey might look like.

Most knew the beady-eyed man for the killer he also was - his physical appearance belied the man's lack of ethics, empathy or any degree of good virtue. So while he was trembling, it certainly was not likely from fear.

The Totorro genes were anything but angelic. Al had worked for his brother Carl for years. The two were successful as they mutually leached off society, the underground and it seems, each other. One readily able and wiling to throw the other under the bus to save his own personal skin. The other obviously more than willing to take a hit out on his younger brother to prevent just that very thing from happening.

"My ribs are busted and I can't see where I'm going." Totorro whined as he sagged into a seated position onto a damp log. He weakly lifted his cuffed hands in askance, but was once again summarily denied.

"I need a chance .. you know that .. I cut a deal with the Feds. It's your job to keep me alive. Uncuff me so I have that chance."

"Shut up." Caught blotting her temple with her scuffed shirt sleeve, Kono's whisper was harsh. "It's not happening; besides, we are your chance."

She was simultaneously watching Danny as he braced himself stoically against a tree. All three of them were soaked to their skin from seawater. Each was injured from the crash and together, fleeing steadily into the jungle from the two well-armed mercenaries dispatched from the speed boat to finish the job. The only other thing they currently all agreed upon was the iffy closure to that job. If Al didn't show for the trial, there was every indication that Angel Totorro would simply go free. Without his brother's damning testimony, the mafia lord was essentially a free man. While one intended to live by sabotaging his brother, the eldest would see to it that it never happened.

Stifling a pained moan, Kono used a fist to rub the blood away from her hairline. Every bit of her body ached and burned from the crash. They hadn't had time to think about their mutual injuries until that very second; caring for what they could was still only something on a future agenda.

As she heaved in settling lungfuls of air, she cataloged her own woes first. Bleary vision, a touch of nausea, and a solid ache substantiated a concussion. A gash on her right arm was deep but not life-threatening. Gently, she probed her ribs and winced but was relieved when nothing seemed to move under her skin. Their prisoner had sustained a through and through to his lower arm and had at least two busted ribs. Despite the disorienting pain, Totorro had gamely run into the jungle along with the two Five-0 officers but clearly only to save his own somewhat worthless life.

"Danny." Kono's questioning whisper resulted in a raised hand and she instantly quieted. From where she covered Totorro, she was failing in making out her friend's own injuries. The raised hand was streaked in blood though. Danny's awkward use of the tree as a brace meant something more, but Kono couldn't quite figure out what, yet.

Leaning against the tree, Danny surveyed the darkening jungle from as many angles as possible. He wasn't at all jubilant that they might have lost their pursuers. That would only be a temporary respite until their trail was picked up by the highly trained and well paid killers. Carefully sucking in a slow breath, Danny closed his eyes and focused on how the tree's roughened bark poked his shoulder and then ground into his forehead. Their short plane flight with Tortorro had been under wraps; on a need to know basis only. The second leg of his journey back to California was controlled even more tightly by FBI mandate.

There was a leak somewhere in either the FBI or HPD and they'd been setup.

Al's big brother was out gunning for him and it was all much too easy to bring the plane down over the water. "Inside job." Muttering to himself, Danny dismally shook his head as he tried to control the persistent headache and the more worrisome pain in his side. Like Kono, he'd been thrown about by the hard landing and then stunned by the plane's final sideways flip. The violence and noise had been overwhelming but when it stopped, his stunned eyes had met Kono's first for a long pause.

Between them and for what seemed like an eternity, only their shattered breathing could be heard as they stared at each other in mutual bewilderment. Their stunned silence lasted up until Tortorro moaned, cursed and began to struggle in the only fear he'd ever shown as torrents of water rushed in from all sides.

"Danny." He heard Kono and instantly raised his hand to demand silence. It was bad enough Totorro was a whiner and fully inept at finding his feet through the jungle undergrowth. It was worse that he was as evil as his elder brother and yet, it was their duty to keep him alive. With another piercing look through the trees, Danny satisfied himself for the moment as he pushed himself weakly off the tree's knobby trunk.

"We need to go up and find a safe place until help arrives. Higher ground." Danny didn't dare hunker down as a ripple of nausea raced through his stomach. If he sat or took a longer moment to regain his equilibrium, he'd be done until further notice. Based upon Kono's studious evaluation, she knew that sad truth and agreed as she eyed the blood stain made worse by ocean water as it soaked the material of his shirt.

"You okay?" Kono asked, almost smiling as he in turn made a face about her head injury. "What's with your side?"

"My side. Your head ... and your arm." Kono's hair was lank from water on one side and clumped with blood on the other. Her gaze was uneven and hazed. He looked at her arm, now cradled across her chest. Wincing through a spasm, Danny tried to smirk. But he failed, and to cover it up, he gestured to where Tortorro sat. "His ribs are no better. On top of that, he lost his damned glasses!"

"Danny." She stopped his whispered rant mid-way by picking at his shirt. Of them all, he was undeniably more hunched ... more tired. "Just. Please. Let me see it."

Carefully, Danny unwedged his elbow where he'd anchored it firmly against his left side. At first, he thought he'd been cut by metallic debris in the crash or hurt his ribs, but as they made their escape and blood continued to soak his shirt, his assumption had definitely changed. Edging forward, Kono motioned for Danny to watch Totorro's every tiny movement. The man rolled his eyes mockingly when Danny's gun unerringly found his chest. They were smart. Much smarter than any authority engaged in watching him in the past and Totorro's mocking expression altered to one of pure hatred.

"Like I'm going anywhere." Totorro muttered unhappily. Dabbing at his own scraped chin, he watched suspiciously as the female Five-0 officer raised her peer's shirt.

"Not good, brah." Kono's eyes darkened more with worry as she gently probed the puffy and damaged skin. She glanced up when Danny stilled her fingers and reflexively moved away. "Oh man. You got shot back there."

"Join the club." Tortorro snorted softly in disgust as he recognized another gunshot wound. He knew that there'd be a leak in his supposed protection detail and he'd never truly be safe. But having the Piper brought down over open ocean was a novel exercise and he was indeed, impressed.

He narrowed his eyes as he waited for the female officer to announce the wound's severity. He squinted worriedly as the Detective paled more and then briefly swayed. It obviously was bad based upon the man's reaction alone. Yet, the Detective never lost eye contact or faltered from his watch. He wanted to argue the point again, because Totorro was stuck and injured, too. While he didn't relish his current state, he didn't want to necessarily die either and he was determined at least in that. He needed their protection .. he needed both officers alive and on their feet ... at least in the short-term.

"It's through." There was some relief in Kono's voice, but the wound was steadily bleeding under her fingers and there was no denying Danny's level of pain. "We've got to stop the bleeding though."

Back on the crashed Piper, with the water pouring in where they sat and the terrifying sounds of a speed boat's engines, they'd no time to think. There had been no time to do anything except to run. Definitely not enough wherewithal to even try to locate the first aid kit. Now, Kono winced in frustration while she took stock of what precious little they had. With only their own weapons and their cuffed convict, they had no water, food or real gear of any kind. Each was badly banged up and suffering from an equal number of cuts, scrapes and bruising.

"Let's go. We're losing our advantage and we need to keep our distance from those two guys." Preferring to get on the move, Danny shook his head as if reading her mind. "The distress call went out and we know it was received, so it's only a matter of time. Let's go." They'd have to deal with the plain truth that they were at least alive and that help was already en route.

"No." Kono ground her jaw in frustration before turning on Totorro and bending down. She needed five precious minutes of real time - on her terms - for essential triage. "Don't move. Give me this."

Surprised by the sudden physical closeness, the criminal gasped as her fingers found his belt and unbuckled it. Almost jerking the convict off his moss-covered seat, she pulled the leather strap from his pants loop by loop.

"Hey, honey. All you had to do was ask." Totorro leered up at her with an inexcusable shrug when Kono obviously needed to hold herself back from pummeling him into the earth.

"It's a good thing you're all dressed up for the Feds." Kono drawled, as she then attacked his suit coat despite the handcuffs. In fact, Totorro had been in a neat three-piece suit as orchestrated by his lawyers for the meetings on the Big Island, after which he would be escorted in style back to the mainland for the trial. Soaked through and ruined by seawater though, his originally well-designed layers of corporate-looking fine clothing was something they could use now.

"Where did you get that?" Danny snorted softly in amusement as a sharp, thin knife appeared in Kono's hands. He noticed then that she had a small sheath down by her booted ankle. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head before waving off his question. "Never mind .. at least it's a more practical size."

"You know, Danny." Despite their circumstances, Kono smiled to herself as she hacked Totorro's suit coat to particularly sized shreds of material. "Practical is .. as practical does." She snarked back quietly over her shoulder.

"You know what I like? I like assertive women." Lewdly eyeing her again and ruining the private friendly moment, Totorro lifted his cuffed hands as Danny snarled a warning. But Kono neatly cut off his next rude comment with a dry warning of her own as her blade sliced cleanly downward towards the jacket's hemline.

"Do you now, brah? I might just miss and it won't be very pretty." Kono paused briefly to let her intentions sink in, pleased when Danny chuffed a supportive sound behind her back.

"One slip right now and odds are you'll either bleed out or never have kids again." When Totorro dropped his gaze, she continued on to finally remove the material completely from his body. "Sit there and shut up because your next."

There were certain things Steve proved were invaluable assets. A nicely stowed sharp blade was one of those perfect implements. A few minutes later, she had packed Danny's wound front and back. The man's belt was snugged tightly to hold the wadded cloth in place.

"God, Kono. Easy." Danny's vision sparkled warningly and then nearly grayed out as he swayed in place when the pain skyrocketed. Seconds later, the leather belt's cinched girth took his breath away. Kono's name came out as a garbled moan. Unsure if he was even standing, Danny lost sight of Totorro when his hand dropped alarmingly against his will.

"You're okay. I got him … and you, too. Just breathe nice and slow. You know the drill, Danny." Afraid that he'd reached a point of no return, Kono gave Danny a small shake while she continued to whisper. He was still standing but his eyes had closed in a face ashen from stress and pain. She couldn't afford having Danny keel over now or even later. He knew it too as his free hand blindly sought out her fingers.

"Okay, 'kay." Biting back another groan, Danny felt his seeking hold returned with a firm desperation. Her steadying hand and quiet affirmations allowed him to get his jumbled thoughts back together as the nauseating pain thrummed down to a more manageable level. Blinking back tears brought on by a gut-wrenching ache, he watched more clearly as Kono deigned to treat Totorro's lesser wound; the convict clearly surprised by the gentle care.

"Thank you." Lips set in a stern straight line, Totarro mumbled under his breath momentarily confused by the simple yet diligent dressing. The two officers were indeed much smarter and much more astute than any officials he'd come across in his own past. For a moment watching them and being a recipient of their unexpectedly benevolent care, Totarro thought he might just survive his older brother's treacherous murder attempt.

"Here." Feeling ill and off-kilter, Danny's voice sounded tinny in his ears as the two turned in a logical motion. But with Kono skillfully caring for the two men, he needed to do the same for her arm. "Now you."

Kono took charge of watching Totorro as Danny used remaining material to tightly wrap the slashing wound in Kono's arm. With care, he tried to dab away the blood along her hairline and sighed when he finally got down to the actual injury.

"You're going to need stitches." Danny pushed her hair back for a better look, not surprised when he got an off-hand shrug. There was no doubt she was having difficulty focusing based on the ever-constant pained squint. Her pale features and persistent swallowing were giving away the obvious nausea. "You have a concussion."

"It's not so bad." Her wry grin communicated that they all would worry about the specifics later. Much later, after they survived what had been thrust upon them and until help arrived. Switching places once more, Kono re-sheathed her knife and gathered up the remaining bits of destroyed suit coat. Balling the material in her hands, she diligently hid the pile under the thickest parts of the closest jungle undergrowth.

"I think that's it." Kono rotated her arm slowly and gave Danny an appreciative smile. "Let's go onwards and upwards and wait this out."

Ignoring Totorro's mumbled complaints about his ruined coat and belt, the two hauled the man up between them to begin their staggered retreat to higher ground.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	4. Chapter 4

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER FOUR**

 

"They aren't dead." Unable to prevent it, Chin softly verbalized their common thought again as he and Steve hacked steadily through the darkening jungle. He knew Steve heard him and agreed even though there was no answer. By that point, only that single-minded belief dared keep them optimistic and Chin felt the necessity to once more say it out loud. "The Coasties would have found them. Or at least, they would have found something by now."

Their near-constant yet overtly quiet contact with the rest of the rescue contingent was by sat-phone. Stress rose as every brief update proved to be consistently negative which toyed maliciously with their gut instincts. The dour updates were grating on strung nerves made worse as the threat of rain increased and night fell at an alarming rate.

"Let's assume a two hour head-start at worst case." Steve paused every few feet to listen and study not only the depths of the jungle, but also the closest leaves and uneven ground for clues. "Injured and unprepared for the terrain, they will be moving slowly and carefully."

Neither of them were willing to consider that Kono and Danny had been killed in the crash. Fingering torn leaves and a badly bent sapling, Steve smirked. Injured certainly, but not dead. And perhaps not so badly injured if they were on the run. So regardless of other negative opinion, unpleasant updates, and because of their unspoken gut instincts, he and Chin sensed the jungle was still the correct choice. So much so, they had three Coasties plus a medic waiting on the beach with a chopper for retrieval.

"Down." Fist flying suddenly up in the air, Steve dropped to a knee with Chin reacting instantly. Slamming the night vision goggles down into place to improve his sight, Steve waited before pointing off to their far left. On a rocky rise, two stealthy figures moved in and out of view amongst the heavy jungle terrain. He wanted to smile and then realized that he was when Chin happily squeezed his shoulder.

"They're definitely alive." Chin whispered. His own tone included a smile because the existence of the two mercenaries now fully proved their theory without a doubt. "I see only two." He felt Steve nod and then shift under his hand. They would split up now to flank widely around the two dangerous men in an attempt to gain ground and get ahead of them or put them in a crossfire.

Or, if the opportunity was presented first, incapacitate each accordingly. Permanently.

Tracking far ahead of their intended quarry, Steve chuffed a throaty sound in approval. Danny and Kono were aiming for higher ground and his hand blindly sought Chin's body when he caught a distant glimmer of movement.

"Up." Fisting the front of Chin's vest, Steve held his breath as he frantically searched the higher ridge. "There." It was brief and both men almost missed the subtle shifting of dim silhouettes nearly hidden by thick jungle growth.

"They have about a two mile lead. Maybe." Steve desperately swung his gaze back to the two pursuers soon to become unwitting prey. "Could be less." Without a doubt there, the mercenaries were moving quickly despite the darkness in comparison to the three figures above. However, they were also not entirely fleet of foot and hesitant about the path to travel. It indicated that perhaps they, too, were not properly outfitted for the impromptu jungle pursuit.

Chin was moving on an eager, silent jog towards the far left of their quarry before Steve finished his sentence. Based on angle, Steve was already traveling straight up the incline to, at minimum, insert himself between the two small groups.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

They were all struggling now. Each in their own damaged way as they crawled, tripped and tried to gain ground away from their pursuers. One faint glimpse of the two armed mercenaries was all it had taken to provide an initial rush of adrenalin. But bodies were not cooperative and they were fighting to stay on their feet. Their destination was a dark out-cropping which seemed just as far away as it had for the last many minutes. It would give them shelter and a bit of protection from what they all knew would be a pending fire-fight.

Except for the sound of his own harsh breathing, Al Totorro was silent as he put his head down and fought his way forward step by slow step. Hands still cuffed, he was either pushed or pulled upwards without remorse, but he wasn't complaining. The detective had led the way upwards for the large majority of the trek to keep a slow by steady pace. Pausing occasionally to qualify the line of sight towards their goal and to ensure that they were free of any unforeseen traps, no one had felt the need to speak. However, by some silent agreement which Totorro had entirely missed, the female officer was in the lead now as her teammate faltered.

Because of that change in position, Totorro felt him fall first as the once firm hand dropped off his back. First the detective was there and pushing from behind, and then he simply wasn't. Caught up in her own single-minded objective, the female officer hadn't yet noticed and Totorro fought her upwards hold on his cuffed hands.

"Stop." He croaked out as the warmth of the hand left an empty imprint on the back of his stained dress-shirt. "Stop. Something's wrong."

"Fell." Tortorro got the one word out as Kono hissed irritably at first, turning in anger when he seemingly dropped spent to one knee. But he bobbed his chin behind them as he sucked in whistling breaths of air. "He fell."

On the trail below them, Danny was face down and weakly scrambling in the dirt as he completely failed to regain his feet. "Shit, Danny." Staying low, Kono tried to see down the slope, but was unable to see signs of movement. Based on the tingle she felt through her toes though, the two men were close. Much too close.

"Not going to do anything." The muffled vow was from Tortorro as he fisted his cuffed hands into the ground.

"You move a muscle, brah, I shoot you here and now. I don't care who you are or what happens after that." He knew that the officers were doing their damnedest to keep him alive. The threat wasn't entirely invalid though based upon the woman's very demeanor.

Drenched in sweat and pale from her own painful injuries, she was not in the mood to be reckoned with and so, Tortorro nodded again.

"Help him. We have to move." He was anxious too as his nerves ratcheted up a notch. Her eyes were narrowed distrustfully though as she tried to quickly gauge his intentions. "I won't do anything. You need to help him." It was true and with Danny unable to get up, Kono had no choice but to accept the convict's promise.

Keeping sideways in case Totorro tried something, Kono quickly skirted past him to snare Danny's right arm and to retrieve his weapon from fisted fingers. Doing her best to ignore the pained gasps, she was stunned to feel how very weak he'd become during their ascent.

"I got your gun. Now lean on me." Kono fought to get Danny to his feet, taking a large majority of his weight and then wondering how they were even going to take one step. Eyes wedged shut, Danny vainly bit back moan upon moan as his body shuddered from exhaustion. His inability to get enough air prevented him from truly speaking which was further complicated by blood loss and pain.

"Danny. Walk." He heard Kono's voice through a fuzzy tunnel and yet did nothing.

"Yeah." Completely in agreement, he pushed the sound out. Synapses misfired continually though as his feet refused to listen to his brain which in turn, was thwarted by an uncooperative body.

When he slipped down from his position behind Tortorro, Danny had barely noticed until his cheek connected with the uneven ground. Muddled and confused, he knew he needed to get up. Yet, he was only partially vertical now due to Kono's sheer physical determination. As muscles seized and a solid wall of vertigo destroyed any sense of his remaining equilibrium, walking became utterly out of the question.

"Walk. Move, Danny. You need to get up." Kono was urgently pleading with him. He stubbornly tried to comply yet continued to fail, never wondering where the second set of hands suddenly came from on his opposite side. Whatever had happened though, as he hung his head weakly, he was supported equally and then moving upwards again. Then it sunk in and he forced his head up and his eyes to open in alarm.  _Tortorro_.

Danny sucked in a ragged breath and waited as their eyes met. Tight-faced and grim, the criminal shrugged and simply offered him support. Next to him, Kono stiffened but said nothing.

Watching the two struggle below, Tortorro had growled under his breath. His arm ached and his ribs were constantly engulfed in flaming, rigid pain. The female officer had her hands full and simply had to forgo a few minutes of guarding him to aid her friend. He had glanced at the upwards slope which was blurry not only from poor eyesight, but also nighttime darkness. Then he had stared blindly at his own cuffed hands and tested his strength.

He knew that he could do it and be done with them.

Instead, he scowled angrily as he slowly resumed his own feet and slid the few paces down to insert himself under the detective's left shoulder. Once the man's arm automatically draped loosely over his chest, Tortorro grabbed the lax wrist between his fisted hands and lifted. Their eyes met and he couldn't do more than offer a lame shrug before glancing towards the female officer.

"What?" His spontaneous act even stunned himself as he caught the female officer's surprised expression which slowly morphed into one of acceptance. "So what." Unexpectedly defensive, Tortorro pursed his lips as he readjusted the detective's weight uncomfortably.

"You can shoot me later."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	5. Chapter 5

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER FIVE**

 

"It's a very good thing you skipped that flight. The Coast Guard is already on site and reporting recovery of three bodies." Andrea Winston was back to her newly acquired purr of pleasure. The skill was new to Doug Pratt at least and he winced as if in physical pain as he was personally advised of the Piper's crash. After informing Winston of his client's final transport plans, he'd suddenly taken ill scant hours before the flight's scheduled departure. A planned portion of the ruse which he both resented and appreciated as he was told more about its wrecked status by his vigilant Legal Assistant.

They were at his office despite his earlier excuse of being unable to make the short flight to the Big Island. Eyes closed, Pratt was back to holding his aching head. He'd been instructed to use illness as an excuse, but as the day wore on, it was most heartily not a lie.

"Are you over that touch of food poisoning now? Well enough to make tomorrow's early morning flight to the Big Island? You'll make that meeting with the Feds and your client just in time." Enjoying the distressed look firmly etched across his face, Andrea insisted upon drilling her point home as he shook his head in abject defeat.

"Well, perhaps I speak too soon because the odds of you actually meeting your client in one whole piece is not something we quite want now, is it?" Her voice remained sly as she spelled out word for word what they intended to have happen.

"While we have three bodies according to the Coast Guard. Not one of them is yet confirmed as being Al Totorro. Therefore, two men were dispatched from our boat to finish him off; word has it he is on foot and trying to flee inland. Until we hear otherwise from our men, we wait."

Sick to his stomach, Pratt gazed at Winston's unsympathetic face and toyed with seriously declining to do more until he knew that his wife was safe. That she had been released …. alive as promised.

He chose his next words very carefully with a lawyer's skill because he didn't recognize Andrea Winston for the person he'd hired personally so many months ago. As he did the math in his head, he realized that the timing of her joining his firm coincided cleanly with his acceptance of Al Totorro's defense case. He'd been watched and played from the very beginning by the man's powerful older brother.

He was angry and frustrated but he knew before he tried, that he really had no options or choices which meant his wife also had none.

"I did what he asked; you can vouch for it, yourself." Gesturing to her cell phone which had chimed at preset intervals, Pratt began his plea in a determined tone. However, it disintegrated to a half-hearted whine upon Andrea's sly giggle of refusal.

Pratt swallowed hard as Andrea shook her head. "He said that he'd let her go once I gave him the flight plans. I did that .. he got what he wanted. The information was sound and correct." Pratt pushed once more, letting the obvious lay unspoken.

"For a smart man, you aren't very bright sometimes. What did I just say?" Andrea laughed softly as his office phone began to ring. "Proof of death for proof of life. Those are his requirements. We are not negotiating. So, until we receive that confirmation, our little agreement and those final terms are still on the table."

Pratt's desk phone continued to ring incessantly and all he could do was stare dumbfounded at his Legal Assistant's vicious grin. "That would be HPD probably wondering why you weren't on today's flight. Don't you think you should answer that, boss? I'm sure it's also going to be the sad sad news about your missing client."

"Answer your phone, boss." She hissed the words in a demanding rush, causing him to jump as if stung by a hornet. Disembodied and attempting to breathe more normally, Douglas Pratt watched his hand snare the phone. He had to force his mouth to work as he answered Sergeant Duke Lukela's urgent call. He listened to the man's detailed instructions as if in a fog.

Officers were being dispatched to retrieve him and his immediate staff for questioning and for possible protection. Others waiting for the small transport on the Big Island would be similarly detained ... and  _protected_.

Pratt almost laughed at that as the comment slowly sunk into his addled brain. Protection? Perfect. Much too late and for no good reason. Mouth dry and barely able to reply to the most basic of prompts before ending the call, he realized something even more startling. He wondered why he had never noticed it before.

Douglas Pratt sank back into his chair as he studied Andrea's facial features and dense black hair. "Your real name is not Andrea Winston."

"In a way, it most certainly is." Her lop-sided smug expression required no answer and so now, at this stage, she felt confident in confirming the much too late truth. A terrible truth that was at least much too late for Douglas Pratt.

"Andrea Louisa Alcott Winston Tortorro at your service. What can I say?" Far from apologetic and talking more than necessary, Andrea re-introduced herself to the devastated lawyer. Even delving into the somewhat embarrassing excuse for the sizable nature of her real full name.

"Little Women. The book? My dear mother favored the author, Louisa May Alcott and Winston is her rather charming maiden name. She comes from old money. My father .. well, you can just guess who that is, can't you?"

Mocking him openly, Andrea leaned back and laughed in glee.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Chin was gaining ground rapidly on the two mercenaries. The fact that he was used to such terrain and had night vision goggles were skills and tools well put to use.

"In position." His whisper was barely audible. In return, there was a soft affirmative murmur. Steve would likely press on and upwards to cleanly insert himself between their friends and this dangerous foe. Until the signal came, Chin would bide his time and wait.

Purposefully slowing, Chin tracked behind the men at a respectable distance. He could hear the soft murmur of near-constant discussion. A brief pause in their movements allowed him to make out the large packs they carried as if they expected to stay the night on the island prior to retrieval. Narrowing his eyes, he waited, watched and learned. He grinned when he determined that they were indeed a bit lost. Just a bit out of sorts and hesitant about the track they needed to take to find their quarry.

"No movement." Chin whispered the fast update. It gave him and Steve more time and Chin instantly appreciated that knowledge as he watched one stumble, fall heavily to one knee, and then heard the overly loud curse. As packs were dropped to the jungle floor, they were calling a temporary halt to their chase. He was baffled and then inordinately pleased to see the aggravation rising as tempers escalated. "Taking ten, Steve."

Running as easily as Chin, Steve had taken a much larger swath to circle in from above with every confidence that he had the time to lay his trap. He wondered about the excruciatingly slow progress of the three shapes he saw clearly at one point. They were oddly bunched together and the tight formation was a major concern. The Coastie's medic had inquired about tagging along, but Steve had refused in lieu of time. He and Chin were of the same mind and didn't need to verbally communicate. They knew the terrain and each other's habits and so, Steve had refused.

Instead, his own pack held numerous additional medical supplies, including a foldable stretcher all of which the medic had forcibly added to the bindings. "One thing at a time." Steve muttered under his breath. It served no purpose to worry about the potential hindsight of needing an extra pair of hands or more expert care. Things were bound happen quickly now and both men had to deal with neutralizing an extremely volatile situation.

Steve briefly paused in heavy growth to reconfirm his path of travel. He had lost sight of the two mercenaries but only realized why based upon Chin's most current update. They had considerably slowed and then come to a complete stop. Because of that abrupt change in cadence and his own hurried rush, he was now much closer to his teammates' location.

"Going up." After a moment's hesitation, Steve softly relayed his new decision to continue on. The easy affirmative made him smirk and it compounded the approval for the slight alteration. Anxious now, Steve double-timed his pace towards the upper reaches of the rocky hillside.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	6. Chapter 6

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER SIX**

 

Still bolstering Danny's weight, Kono and Tortorro fell to their knees at the same time once they'd cleared the last rock-strewn field to reach what needed to be their final destination. Out of breath and wheezing, injuries which were bad had become much worse. It was nearly impossible to be quiet as they argued against their bruised bodies.

With every stumble, Danny accidentally pulled against him and Tortorro was fighting blinding pain across his ribcage. Constantly biting her lip and swallowing convulsively, Kono was nauseous from a now persistent dizziness. Danny was virtually limp between them and only managing a semblance of movement due to their continued assistance. He felt each struggling and he wanted to help more. He knew that he should, yet not a single portion of his body would listen.

Unable to feel his extremities, small cold shudders rippled uncontrollably through his muscles. Long, long minutes went by before he muzzily realized that they had all stopped moving.

"Kono?" They all desperately needed water. Exhausted and parched, Danny's mouth was refusing to cooperate as he strangled in each inhale. Her name came out as a moaned whisper followed by a few slurred syllables. "This .. it?"

"S'okay, Danny. Yeah." He felt her hand find his forehead to push back sweat-soaked hair. "Just hang in there. We're going to stay here."

"Hmm." He managed a relieved sound of sorts as his head bounced uselessly on his neck. They all needed to rest and recoup whatever energy reserves that they could manage. Unable to see more than vague outlines in the darkness, he finally permitted his eyes to fall blearily to the dirt just under his very nose. He was intent on staying alert as they readied themselves on the ledge, but that spot of dirt was the very last thing he saw before he lost consciousness.

Helplessly gagging from her concussive head wound and over-exertion, Kono sagged for a moment as Danny's weight fell completely into her. Unable to rest, she blinked back unwanted tears from her eyes as she fought to get her roiling stomach under control. Her injured right arm was the least of her own troubles once the sickening feeling had begun to take up a more permanent camp. To her left and on the opposite side of Danny, Al Totorro was not in any better shape. The only difference was that he felt no immediate need to vomit up his much earlier afternoon lunch. Looking away from the man, Kono sized up the ledge they had finally reached.

"Over there. Up against that far wall." She was relieved to see a heavy overhang that would protect them all from the elements. Shadows would protect for a time from prying eyes. Struggling to their feet, they worked together to finish the last few steps needed. Once she and Tortorro eased Danny down, the criminal collapsed in a heap but using two hands, Kono kept her weapon at the ready as she peered down the murky black hill.

"Maybe we lost them." Slumped to his side, Tortorro was tapped out, but far from stupid. "Maybe for a little while at least." He knew that they certainly hadn't lost their trackers for very long. The location was truly the best they could all do and it provided them at least with a chance of survival. With a resentful groan, he changed positions to sit where Kono indicated, far from Danny and herself but still protected.

"Maybe." Thumbing the space between her eyes, Kono measured Tortorro as he leaned his head back into the rocks and wearily closed his eyes. As with herself, he was drenched in sweat and still trying to gain control of shuddered breathing. His face was creased with pain and his wrists remained cuffed to lay listlessly in his lap. However, with Danny down, she needed the criminal at least awake and aware.

"No way. Keep alert. Open your eyes and tell me if you see anything moving down there." Kono roughly tapped Tortorro's leg with her foot as she edged past the man. She needed to check on Danny and couldn't do two things at once.

"I … I can't .. _but_." As his voice angrily rose in volume, Tortorro gestured meaningfully towards his face. He was almost blind without his eyeglasses and he genuinely had difficulty seeing.

"Try and keep it down." Glaring at him, Kono roughly toed his leg again. She understood his issue but didn't have the energy or wherewithal to deal with his excuses. "Just .. try. If something looks off or if you hear anything strange, tell me."

"Fine." With a rueful shake of his head, he did as he was told figuring he would likely be able to hear an out of place sound. He also could at least make out any odd shadowed movement.

There was almost no natural light left as clouds gathered overhead which made it difficult for Kono to thoroughly check Danny's wound. She did know that he'd been continually losing blood despite her best efforts. Unable to fully rouse him and getting no more than a resentful mumble at her prodding's, Kono was forced to keep his weapon for her own use.

"Damn it." She whispered. Restless under her hands, Danny's pulse was erratic and his skin clammy. With his system in shock, she was on the verge of helpless tears.

"How is he?" Glancing over to where she bent over the detective, Tortorro felt obligated to at least ask the question. The detective had powered through with their combined help, but Tortorro had felt the man's strength fading with each short step. In the gloom, he frowned when he saw her worriedly shake her head after checking the belted makeshift bandages. It indicated that the wound was problematic despite her attempt at caring for it.

"He'll be fine. He just needs to rest." Thankful for the darkness which concealed the shine to her eyes, Kono used her headache as an excuse to wipe her face. She ignored the strange sound Tortorro made deep in his throat. Angered by it, she refused to offer him more even when he almost courteously inquired about her own injuries. Instead, Kono turned away from Danny to study where they had come up from.

In truth, Kono's stomach was far from cooperative as she battled another round of strong nausea. Two hands were a pre-requisite in holding her weapon with any hope of accuracy. Slamming her left hand over her mouth, she gagged again around a curse. She wasn't going to be as successful this time though and with a sudden lurch, fell into a short spasm of dry heaves off to the side.

Unable to do anything, Tortorro watched the woman regain self-control only to then assume a defensive parallel position from where he sat. Without water and no supplies would definitely stress their ability to survive the long night. Slowly, he resumed his own job of surveying his stretch of the steep slope. Working together out of necessity, the two could only wait for what might unfold next.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	7. Chapter 7

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

 

Hunkered down low and well above the two mercenaries, Steve studied the ruined clothing he had found quite by accident. The suit jacket had been hacked into fine strips of cloth which obviously had been used for doctoring. It was another sobering find after he had finally discovered the random streaks of blood on arbitrary leaves and undergrowth.

Melting away now, Steve took firm advantage of the lull which had been re-confirmed by Chin. Raised voices seemed to indicate frustration and discord; with that strife, the two would only fall off their guard more and more. The two were not moving at present and Steve no longer looked back. The purposeful track the three had taken would bring them to a rocky outcropping. Heavily shadowed and difficult to navigate, once achieved though, the elevated location would give them a birds-eye view of the lower jungle.

"Smart, smart move." He muttered under his breath while scrambling over larger and larger rocks. Not an easy task as the humidity caused by the coming rain made them more damp and slick, Steve vaguely wondered how the injured three had managed to traverse the rough section. Glancing up to gauge his course, he nodded again in approval. The upper ledge would afford them a decent view of anyone approaching combined with adequate protection. He was pleased by the wise decision but Steve intentionally slowed until he could clearly see first the convict and then Kono. They were both on guard and with two fisted hands tightly holding her weapon, Kono was more than ready to react. Frowning though, he diligently searched the space when he saw no apparent signs of his partner.

Edging closer, he ignored the cuffed figure of Totorro to hiss Kono's name under his breath. The two disheveled and exhausted figures jolted in shock and Steve half-ducked as Kono fisted her weapon quickly in his direction.

"Kono. Stand down." Steve aimed his voice low and decidedly in her direction. Through his night vision goggles he could see her blink once and then twice as he carefully revealed himself to avoid getting his own head blown off.

Her tone easily communicated her disbelief as her expression entirely changed. Still, it took her a longer moment to lower her hands entirely. "Steve?"

"Stand down. Kono, are you all okay? Where's Danny?"

"You know this guy?" Tortorro gaped at the intimidating black-clad figure which had appeared as if by magic out of the darkness just to his own left-hand side. His startled glance to Kono caught a pleased nod and the glimmer of a genuine smile. But the criminal was shocked by the man's unexpected arrival, assault rifle and impressive gear. In fact until she had smiled, he was positive that they'd all been found by his brother's murderous men.

"I never heard him! What is he a freaking Ninja?" Finally unsettled, Tortorro nearly yelped in alarm as he scuttled painfully backwards to give way.

"Something like that." Steve ground out. "Where's Danny?" Glaring at the downed convict, Steve stepped over his splayed legs after he'd wedged himself back against the rock wall. Approaching Kono, it was only then that he saw his partner laid out limply on the cold ground as far away from the front of the ledge as humanly possible. On his back with one flung over his chest, the rumpled figure was agonizingly serene - and it was all wrong.

"Kono. What?" His friend looked almost ..impossibly gone. Steve's brain stuttered around a very unreasonable word, causing his body to stumble to an inelegant halt. "Kono?" Through the night vision goggles, he froze with fingers clenched until he saw the stuttered and much too shallow rise of Danny's chest.

"Steve." Sensing that Tortorro wasn't going to move, a bubble of a stunned brief chuckle burst softly from Kono's chest. She hadn't heard a sound or seen any movement either, so she could hardly blame the criminal. She knew Steve's capabilities but still was more than surprised to find him suddenly standing in front of her as if on maneuvers. Another weary chuckle made it out through her mouth and she wiped her face to stop herself. They were his mission and it meant Chin wasn't very far behind.

"Hey boss." She repeated her welcome as he took a moment for a quick one-armed hug. Half-grinning, Kono's eyes were glistening in relief though as her friend whipped off his equipment. "How did you find us?"

"Chin's down below. He has eyes on the other two. They're a bit turned around and it's slowed them up." Avoiding the particulars, Steve glanced warily back at Tortorro who was rooted to the same spot. The convict was still staring at him in total awe.

"Talk to me." Gently keeping her low, Steve forced Kono to sit near Tortorro while he bent down next to Danny and unslung his backpack. Using rocks to conceal a small lantern, he targeted the beam of light at Danny's body. Then Steve's fingers skirted the blood stained patch on his partner's side as he took note of the belted material.

"There was a boat. Danny and Tortorro were shot when the plane was taken down. Both are through and throughs and Tortorro has a couple of cracked ribs, but I can't get Danny's wound to stop bleeding." Wracked with fatigue, Kono dug in despite the pending adrenalin dump which she could ill-afford even though Steve had arrived. They still had a lot to do, including getting back down to the beach. Neither Steve nor Chin needed to worry about her.

"I got banged up pretty good." She admitted when Steve purposefully hesitated with a blatant stare for her blood-clumped hair, demanding more. "Concussion and I hurt my arm. Each of us got slammed around on impact."

Water was soon thrust into her hands with two pain tablets. She gagged on the first sip and nearly choked on the second. Feeling stupid with herself as her stomach roiled uncomfortably, Kono got her heaves under control so she could finish taking the medication. Slowing herself down, she managed to take her fill and keep the water down while wiping nausea-related tears from her eyes. After which, the water and two more pills were presented to Al Tortorro. Relieved to be able to moisten his mouth, the man swallowed the medication before giving the canteen back to Kono with another murmur of thanks.

Sucking in a steady breath, Steve let it out as a slow settling puff of air. "How long has he been out?"

"At least thirty minutes." Kono's reply was worrisome as Steve used his fingers to check Danny's pulse. Under his hand, Danny was much too still and his skin too unnaturally cold and damp. It was bad news and Kono softly voiced what she had already concluded earlier. "He's in shock. We had to keep moving and I couldn't get the bleeding to stop."

Nodding in agreement, Steve quietly cursed as he pulled out particular supplies from the pack. He didn't want to take too long for Chin's sake, but before making any decisions he needed to disinfect and re-bandage Danny's wounds properly. Diligently selecting medical supplies in order of need, Steve focused solely on getting that urgent task accomplished. Pushing Danny's shirt aside, he removed the tight belt and then carefully peeled off the wadded makeshift bandages.

"I thought you weren't supposed to do that." Tortorro quietly chuffed. Without looking up, Steve softly provided an answer that was valid based on the continued bleeding. Within seconds, he had doused both entry and exit wounds with a betadine antiseptic solution and then an odd white powder.

"QuickClot." Steve stated what was obvious to him. He knew the powder would act immediately to help Danny's blood finally begin to clot. On the heels of that, he packed the wounds liberally with clean gauze before using occlusive pressure bandages.

"You did good with what you had." Still evaluating his partner's distressing lack of response, Steve offered Kono the compliment. Her breathing had altered to a near shuddered type of plaintive sob. "No. It was perfect for what you had … it slowed his blood loss and bought time. This will work better, though. He'll be okay once we get him out of here."

Without understanding why, Kono was battling tears at the base of Danny's feet. To calm herself, she grabbed his shoe for lack of anything else. She could easily see that Steve was more than worried as a portable oxygen tank and mask magically appeared. He was more than concerned by Danny's sheer lack of movement during ministrations that should have been extremely painful as he thumbed the oxygen on full.

Voice gone, she could only watch mesmerized as Steve efficiently lay an intravenous line for fluids into Danny's left arm. Handing the bag to her to hold, he then pulled a thermal rescue blanket from the bottom of his pack. He draped Danny from foot to just under his chin before gently raising both feet to shove the large pack under his partner's ankles.

"Kono. Are you two okay? Can you both hold out until I get back with Chin?" Steve had his hand cupped to the side of her head. In reality he was checking her eyes, the severity of the head wound and her ability to remain on her own two feet. He wanted to move but needed to ensure the triage on the other two could wait just a bit longer. He felt her exhausted tremor and waited patiently for her to rally her focus. He grinned as her shoulders straightened in determination.

"We're good." Eventually, Kono's quiet murmur and Tortorro's skittish nod confirmed they were relatively fine.

"Good. Stay here and don't move." Steve pushed the canteen back into her lap and then tapped her weapon sternly with one finger. Flipping the switch off for the small focused light, they were all momentarily taken aback by the sudden severe darkness.

"Do not say a word. Do not move. Do nothing except drink as much water as you all can manage .. and then wait." She and Totorro watched as the dark silhouette repositioned night goggles while spouting final orders. He had been there for no more than ten minutes and yet, they were already feeling more confident and at ease.

"Chin and I have a little something to take care of. We'll be right back .. but if you have any doubts at all about who might be coming up this slope, do not hesitate to shoot."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	8. Chapter 8

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

 

When push came to shove, there was indeed a small number of individuals in the know about Al Totarro's transfer plans from Oahu to the Big Island. That same group was also aware of the subsequent planned flight from Hawaii to California two days later so that he could turn State's evidence against his older brother. In order to keep matters simple, Sergeant Lukela commandeered an entire floor of a nearby hotel. On the Big Island, the FBI agent in charge of that detail did precisely the same thing. In total, nine individuals were kept isolated pending further reports and information from the Coast Guard.

At his location, Duke had five rooms locked down with four persons of interest. One extra room for himself, a junior HPD officer, the defense's Legal Assistant Andrea Winston, the defendant's lawyer Douglas Pratt and one remaining FBI representative.

The lead FBI agent on the Big Island stood watch over two assistant counsel's from Pratt's own firm, two of his own representatives, and the Police Chief from the much larger Hawaii Police Department.

It was an odd group of well-respected individuals each of whom were swearing their steadfast allegiance to the mission at hand. Douglas Pratt listened in fascination as Lukela courteously met with him privately in his assigned hotel room. What he explained seemed to leave the lawyer off the hook and he was stunned by the man's assumed deference.

"Everyone had been duly vetted before their involvement. Do you have any concerns on your end? Any rumors .. anything at all?" The Sergeant was thorough and methodical in his update and Pratt shook his head in reply. Lukela had taken it upon himself to visit each person as they were settled. "Of course, we're reevaluating each and every team member."

"Any new information from the Coast Guard? Has my client been found." Pratt had to force himself to speak and to keep his tone relatively flat as if feigning his ignorance. Beneath his skin though, he was violently trembling and admittedly afraid of whatever answer the man might voice.

On the ride to the hotel, Andrea Winston had been forced into silence based upon their company but it was apparent that she was far from pleased. Once they had reintroduced themselves to each other in his office, Andrea had demanded the specifics of the HPD phone call. She had tried to leave the office with hasty plans of her own, but a call to her 'handler' had forced her to stay. Doug wondered if that handler was her own dear father or someone else extremely close to the incarcerated mafia leader. Regardless, it didn't matter. Douglas Pratt was in well over his head. And Andrea was now more than edgy and very upset by her orders because the move by the FBI, Five-0 and HPD to place them all under a version of house arrest had been decidedly an unfortunate surprise.

As Pratt half-listened to the Sargent's reply, he could only imagine her continuing fury just two doors down. He was positive that she was still raging against having her cell phone taken from her person and then all other methods of communication summarily denied. He fretted for his wife as every slow second ticked by and her fate rested on that of a criminal.

"So nothing then?" Pratt sternly shook himself back to the immediate present. He sighed through a faked attempt to wipe the sweat from his face. Both hot and cold, he had no idea what would happen next.

"I'm sorry. But you will be the first to know one way or another." Lukela confirmed as he turned away with every intention of leaving the lawyer sitting forlornly in the simple hotel room.

"Wait!" The frightened lawyer spat the word out without really thinking. It suddenly dawned on him as the HPD Sergeant started to turn and Pratt was on his feet instantly to cut Lukela off from leaving. This was his chance, as slim as it was, and he stupidly had almost lost it.

"Wait. I know who it is." The fear in his voice was no longer hidden and Lukela stared at him in surprise. The lawyer's demeanor had completely changed and he was bordering on a new rising level of panic. Eyes widened in fear, his hand was shaking now as he grabbed for Duke's arm. "Please. I need your help. I do .. it was me .. but they have my wife. They made me do it."

He fought with himself to not babble incoherently and to keep his voice low. The lucid lawyer argued with the emotions of a man pushed to a final terrifying edge. In the end, what came out was a sloppy mix of rational words laced with heart-rending tears.

"Please." Doug wound up pleading with the startled officer. Pulling the stunned man physically back into the room, Pratt softly purged his confession, fears and terror out in a maddening rush. In that desperate release, everything he knew about Ms. Andrea Winston was also divulged and dropped unceremoniously onto Duke Lukela's unsuspecting lap.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Going down was remarkably faster than his careful ascent for two major reasons. One was an emotional relief at truly having the rest of his team safely ensconced behind his position. The other was a more physical freedom since he now lacked the somewhat oppressive bulk of his backpack and Steve soon had his quarry in his sights scarcely seven minutes later. Other than breaking out two rather pedestrian flashlights, they hadn't moved but seemed to be considering their next steps as lightning flashed on the distant horizon. He was close now; only a dozen or so steps from their makeshift rest stop and they were oblivious to their pending fate. Believing that they had no natural enemies, predator was now stalked by a new and unrelenting foe much more motivated, organized and prepared than they.

Almost casually returning to take up an offensive position, Steve lurked in the heavy shadows of a tree. His eye only briefly flit away towards the horizon as distant thickly blackened clouds were illuminated from behind by lightning. Hushed voices were angry and becoming louder as they argued the benefits of remaining together versus splitting up across unfamiliar ground. It was an intriguing state of affairs and Steve took time to wonder if Chin had been enjoying the problematic banter.

Studying the section of jungle directly opposite his coordinates, he smirked after a few moments when he spied Chin stalking the men only a few wary feet away. Steve had known that Chin would be close and so, had wisely elected to maintain radio silence. What was not visible to the naked eye was plain as day with the benefits of night vision; Steve nodded as Chin acknowledged his arrival. Miming a most important update, Steve's thumbs up sign, followed by the three fingers he then held up near his vest were met with a happy shaka signal.

With a smug expression and new sense of calm, Chin understood that all three were alive and safe where Steve had left them. Readying his weapon at the mercenary closest to himself, he waited for Steve to step out from hiding to initiate the request for surrender. The only thing left now was to put an end to an already murderous situation which had left three innocent men dead. Three more were not going to traipse down that same deadly path of no return.

Watching Steve closely, Chin gauged his readiness as to when the first critical demand would be coming; a diversion would not be necessary. There was only time for a very direct approach. He easily guessed the likely retort and wasn't surprised when both men crouched back to back on the heels of Steve's boldly voiced declaration.

"Five-0! Drop your weapons!" Startled by the unexpected baritone, each vainly scanned the neighboring darkness with both flashlights and guns sweeping from left to right. Though threatened, neither saw the need to do as instructed and Steve inquisitively cocked his head as he judged their reactions.

"Five-0! You are surrounded. You have a count of three to drop your weapons." Repeating himself, Steve was very clear as he held the second man almost too easily in his own sights. As their weak camping flashlights scarcely split the darkness, it became even more blatantly obvious that the two were at a disadvantage and not entirely equipped for their illicit sojourn into a nocturnal jungle. Certainly not out of courtesy, Steve waited for the two to come to their combined senses. Coolness and security of stance proved a certain level of expert training, but they continued to make an error by being somewhat over-confident.

"Trust me that you have nowhere to go. You get one chance to give it up and drop your weapons." To give credence to his words, Steve took aim a mere three inches from his target's second toe. The bullet buried itself in the dirt with a short puff and the man growled in a surprised anger.

It was the response of a skilled expert and Steve nodded in understanding. Though they lacked true cover and were essentially out in the open, the two would not be surrendering easily. If at all. Repeating himself, Steve allowed them a final opportunity compounded by a solid readying click of his weapon. "The next one finds you. Put the weapons down and get on your knees!"

"Hands on your head. Do it! Now!" Timing his own commands to validate Steve's, Chin almost had to laugh when the two swung methodically in his direction. But his amusement about their dance was cut short as the two suddenly and without warning, separated smoothly and opened fire. The first spray of bullets was alarmingly too close to his own head and Chin was forced to hit the ground flat out. Wiggling to a better position, he regained his feet but stayed in a crouch. He made only one decision after that and took his opportunity with one determined pull on his trigger.

Night vision permitted Chin to see the spurt of blood explode from his target's right shoulder. When the mercenary didn't drop his weapon or instantly fall though, another well-aimed bullet ensured it. Across from him, a similar short exchange of fire took place. There was a lull before a final resounding shot eventually resulted in a second dull thud. Still hidden for safety's sake, Chin watched as the second man met the same demise as his cohort.

"Would have been easier if they'd just listen for once." Chin said in pure disgust. Kicking guns away from each body, he met Steve in the small area and toed one man roughly over so he laid sprawled on his back. The two confirmed the kills and then briefly hunkered down to search clothing and gear for any proof of identification and to remove wireless devices. Both men were in their late twenties or early thirties and Caucasian. While the majority of their gear was impressive and expertly assembled, they were fully unprepared in other respects for that evenings' rough pursuit.

"Fish out of water." Steve growled out as he yanked a wallet from the inside pocket of one hired mercenary's light jacket. "They expected to end it from the boat."

"James Doyle. California license." Chin chuffed knowingly. Angel Totarro was at least sometimes predictable in preferring hired help from his own State. Then again, any alias could be purchased easily enough. Fingerprints and dental records would always be the final reliable indicators.

"Same here." Steve confirmed. "Michael A. Gallo. California credentials." After stowing weapons and pocketing all identification and paperwork, the two rose as one with only one final goal: to retrieve their injured friends.

"How are they?" Chin immediately asked the one question weighing most heavily on his mind. The Piper's torn metallic remains were sobering images. There would be no way for any one of the remaining three to have escaped completely unscathed. "How badly are they injured?"

"They were all knocked around pretty good in the crash. I'll need your help providing Kono and Tortorro with basic triage before we try for the beach. With any luck we can beat that storm out." Sporadic bursts of brightness were flickering more urgently on the horizon. Steve's stiff posture was showing his tension while he quickly offered Chin more detail as they began an aggressive ascent to the rocky ledge.

"Kono seems to have a pretty bad concussion, a few expected cuts and scrapes, plus her right arm needs attention." The scent of rain was stronger but if they could continue to move, they'd be lucky and miss the bulk of the fickle weather. Multi-tasking as if distracted, Steve couldn't help the offhand glance towards the moody horizon before sighing out Tortorro's main complaints, though Danny's condition was clearly foremost on his mind. "Our FBI package has a couple of bruised ribs and a gunshot wound to his forearm. He's mobile though."

"Alright." After digesting the news about his cousin, Chin filed it away with some relief. However, that one particular omission was far from missed and he frowned worriedly. It didn't bode well and he wasn't happy about having to prod for more. "What about Danny? How bad is it?"

Chin's question caused an instant rise in the tension emanating from his friend. There was definitely a reason and it absolutely wasn't going to be for a good reason. "Steve? How bad?" Prompting again, Chin winced when Steve provided a succinct update.

"Besides getting rattled in the crash, both he and Tortorro sustained gunshot wounds. Danny was shot low and to the side of his abdomen." Picking nearly the same route he'd used to descend, Steve kept his pace aggressive as he spoke over his shoulder.

"They did their best with what they had on hand; which wasn't very much. Kono tried, but Danny's lost a lot of blood and he's in shock. We're going to have to carry him out of here."

Chin's sudden silence translated into a pensive decision and his pace slowed. "I'll call base and advise that we're coming out and that they should meet us half way. Maybe the Coasties found that damned boat, too." He was in the process of pulling out his satellite phone to contact the Coast-guardsmen on the beach. However for some reason, Steve sensed the idea could be problematic.

"No, not just yet." Uncertain, Steve frowned as they continued moving upwards. The Coasties hadn't been involved, yet something felt decidedly wrong. Steve decided that the news regarding any of the survivors was the issue. Once word got out that Al Tortorro was still alive, it very well could bring more down on their heads when they were least ready. Their second problem was the two mercenaries themselves. Now deceased, he didn't know their communication's schedule or to whom they'd be contacting to relay status. A status which would no longer be coming.

"We at least have to pull resources off the search and rescue. Push the Coast Guard towards locating that boat if they haven't found it yet." Chin argued against a total lack of direction. The advice was sound and Steve rubbed his eyes in consideration as he stopped on the rough trail. Besides the cost and abject misuse of manpower, they couldn't leave resources in the air or on the water for no valid reason. The action of pulling them would communicate particular information to the astute, but was entirely appropriate. As a result, Steve wound up having to nod in agreement. For that concession though, something very cautionary still niggled painfully in the back of his head.

Steve's agreement held an important caveat to Chin's recommendation and it was something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Erring on the side of caution, he allowed the update as long as certain steps were carried out.

"Fine. Do it. Talk to Abrams only though and leave out the majority of the details. Ask him to avoid discussion of why or where resources are being pulled from or even completely diverted. If it's not been found, tell him to focus personnel solely on locating the boat." Thumbing back over his shoulder and in the direction of where they'd left the two bodies, Steve further explained his need for secrecy.

"Offer no advice or status about those two yet. For as long as we can, we don't tell anyone back home .. if we do this right, the information that we want them to hear will bring our leak forward." There was an ongoing risk related to the mercenaries next steps and pre-planned rendezvous, but they had no other available choice.

"This isn't going to be perfect, but I want to be prepared; at least as prepared as humanly possible. Our definition of 'need to know' just got tighter."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Mother's Day to all the mom's out there. I hope you have a wonderful time on your special day.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER NINE**

 

It was entirely too quiet and at first, Danny merely lay on his back while making faint attempts at the once simple task of opening his eyes. As he struggled to remember what happened, a slow realization trickled into his mind that it shouldn't be this quiet. But there was no recognizable sound of any kind and it was disturbing until he realized that he was hearing  _something_. It simply wasn't what he had expected.

But what did he expect? Not entirely certain, the fingers on his left hand twitched. The surface was pebbly, hard and very uneven. The sounds which were trickling in weren't human speech, but nocturnal and possibly even the hollow boom of a distant echoing thunder. He remained initially confused as his senses returned along with the faint stirrings of pain. As his fingers clenched reactively, he also realized that he was uncomfortably cold and not entirely well.

His first more conscious inhale was deeper and it brought with a stunning volume of cool, pure oxygen. On its initial refreshing heels though was a flair of very real, unanticipated bodily pain. His stunned groan at having received such mixed signals was loud in his own ears and Danny opened his eyes then, blinking in alarm when all he saw was pitch darkness. Weary and confused, he tried to shift and gasped softly as the ache settled again sharply in his side.

"Danny?" There was a shifting near him and a sound of shoe on stone sliding closer. Blinking in the darkness, Danny swallowed hard before finding any hint of moisture in his mouth. "Kono?" The presence was familiar and comforting, and Danny had no trouble identifying the shadows made darker by long hair.

"Are you finally back with me, brah? It's been awhile." There was another harsh shuffling sound as Kono eased down closer. She had failed at trying to wake him a few times as he began to fidget and murmur under his breath. Though he seemed confused and still weak, she was undeniably relieved to see his eyes truly open now.

Kono was indeed next to him; he could just make out the outline of her silhouette and then a glimmer of a genuine smile. But lacking energy, he was still loathe to fully find his voice to respond. He needed the ache in his side to calm to a duller throb and for his brain to catch up to the changes he was experiencing. However, it all just seemed too difficult as he feebly tested unfamiliar fabric clinging to shaky fingers and failed at shoving whatever lay across his face, off to the side.

"Yeah." He finally forced out another muffled sound. "Happ'ning?" Trembling and laying on an unforgiving surface, yet covered with what appeared to be a blanket was an odd change. Untangling himself from Kono's fingers, Danny insisted on at least tracing the oxygen mask to reassure himself that it was real. The situation was an enigma based upon the dire circumstances he could last remember.

"You need the oxygen. Leave it." Snaring his fingers back, Kono gave him an encouraging squeeze. Shortly after Steve had left the ledge, Danny had shown faint signs of returning to consciousness as the pure oxygen and fluids bolstered his flagging system. Brief movements had become soft murmurs of distress. Then Danny had stilled for a longer time only to open his eyes now in alarm.

Moving closer as he truly woke, Kono had to stop his searching hands as he turned to her in confusion. "It's oxygen. Do you think you could try some water?"

"Water? What's .. this?" The odd pinch in his arm drew his attention next and he weakly tried to shift his body again. The tight strapped sensation around his middle was gone, yet there was still pain and something felt very different across his stomach. Too many things were happening, none of which made sense to his beleaguered mind because he was sure that they were all still in the jungle.

"Kono?" He thought he recognized the rocky ledge and rolling his head to the side, he glimpsed a second silhouette and frowned. A very rumpled man was looking at him and that man resembled Al Totorro; the criminal they were assigned to protect. As his disorientation rose, Danny tried to move again. But another spike of pain that came with that attempt left him nearly breathless.

"Stop trying to move. Let me explain." The flux of pain was seconded by Kono's annoyed and very urgently whispered reprimands. "That line is intravenous for fluids. Listen to me, Danny."

Despite scolding him, Kono was smiling too as he became slightly more aware but not enough to get into any long conversations or explanations. She would have been pleased to explain the delayed sounds of gunfire that had begun, briefly escalated and then died away only a few minutes earlier. In a way, Kono had been stunned by their proximity to their hiding place. At one point, she was sure she could see the glimmer of muzzle fire. Even Tortorro muttered something about it under his breath. Now that the altercation had seemingly ended though, she and the criminal were anxiously waiting for help to return.

Glancing over, Tortorro caught her eye. Her confidence in the other half of her team's success was innately intact and quite obvious. Nevertheless, she remained well aware of her surroundings and on guard despite caring for the wounded detective. With a concerned sigh, Tortorro turned back towards the hill. Squinting and listening hard, he did his best to pay attention.

"You're doing a little better at least." Kono squeezed his fingers again in warning as Danny tried to investigate the IV line. He was still trembling and she was far from pleased about his erratic pulse. But Steve's fairly recent impromptu arrival and Danny's subsequent waking after a diligent round of triage were an utter relief after the frightening last few hours. She watched as his frown deepened across his forehead while he cataloged the strange additions, including the fact that his feet were even elevated.

"Danny. You aren't listening to me." Kono continued to chide him. With some amusement, she watched as he closed his eyes and then reopened them to seek her face. Persistent herself, she gently helped to elevate his head to offer him small sips from the newly arrived canteen.

"I don't get it." His whisper was a bit stronger. She had to grin again at his increasing level of disbelief as he eyed the water-filled bottle. Putting two and two together wasn't bringing back any logical equations that made sense to him. "What's going on?"

"Well." Her answer was simple and she was almost proud in being able to flummox him even more. "You missed Steve, Danny."

"Who?" The stunned expression was instantaneous and Kono had to stifle a laugh at the honest response. He clearly wasn't thinking straight yet.

"Steve,  _lolo."_  Kono gently teased while gently fixing the blanket so it lay more smoothly across his chest. "Steve and Chin are here. We're leaving soon after they take care of our little problem down below. Do you think you could drink some more water?"

"Wait. Someone's coming." Interrupting the soft murmur of conversation, Tortorro had remained up against the rear wall of the craggy ledge. On his knees, he listened actively to the sounds which were definitely getting closer. Peering and squinting into the shadows he was positive that he saw one and then two different shapes making their way closer to the rocky outcropping.

"There." He whispered urgently again. "Two." Catching her eye, he pointed meaningfully off to his far left towards two shadows which were steadily coming closer. With one hand on Danny's chest, Kono spun towards where Tortorro pointed and readied her weapon. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see anything beyond the first few feet of where they all sat.

"What's .. wrong?" Under her hand, Danny shifted and then groaned in pain. Anxiously shushing him, she stayed low and ready as tried to follow the criminal's line of sight.

"Kono!" With no need to be quiet, Steve's voice suddenly rang out once and she literally laughed in relief while struggling to her feet. His voice carried upwards just as the two dark, imposing shapes came fully into view. "It's all clear."

"Welcome back, boss." Kono responded in kind only to be enveloped in her cousin's arms before she could fully find her balance. Her muffled whisper into Chin's shoulder was abruptly cut off as he pulled her in even more tightly. "Chin! Hey, cuz. Not so .. hard!"

Next to them, Tortorro remained seated but took the liberty of thumbing the small lantern back on now that they did seem truly safe. He obediently stayed where he was though as the Five-0 team reassembled themselves.

"How's your head?" Chin was holding Kono at arms length to look into her eyes and check her wound. He was dismayed by the dampness of her hair which he recognized as blood from the wound to her temple. Gently using his fingers, he tried to push it back to see it better for himself. "You got knocked around pretty good."

"It's not so bad." Kono grinned, trying to avoid his seeking fingers as they snagged annoyingly in her mussed hair. "Chin, I'm fine. It's good!" Seconds later, he had to spontaneously hug her again though despite a startled laugh. After the long internal war he had for hours about finding her whole and alive, he had no choice.

"Sure you are. But I'm still going to look." With a softly pleased laugh of his own, Chin's attention then focused on her arm and he soon had the medical gear lined up to manage her own required triage. "Steve's right, you have a concussion. Let me check this out, cuz."

"M'fine. Check Totorro first." She hissed as he used alcohol wipes to mop up the still bloody head wound. Batting his hands to the side, Kono pointed to the slouched seated shape of their special charge. With an impatient frown, Chin looked at Tortorro to visually inspect him from head to foot.

The convict blinked numerous times before slumping back tiredly against the rock wall when attention turned his way. "What?"

She was forever surprising him and he shook his head in wonder when Chin intently glanced his way. A few minutes after the lead Five-0 officer had left them, she had begun to heave again off to the side of the ledge. The smallest sips of water were refusing to stay down. She was ill, dehydrated and concussed yet steadfast in her mission: the safekeeping of one very worthless, Al Totorro.

"Uhh. Well." Tossing his cuffed wrists uselessly in his lap, Tortorro's mouth gaped at first. "No. I'm right here."

No he didn't feel well. But he shrugged about his arm and winced about his aching ribs. In the dim light, his police protector was gray with fatigue and still, she forged on. He narrowed his eyes in confusion and made sure that her teammate stayed precisely where he was as he declined immediate help. "No. Her first. I can wait."

The Asian officer nodded and continued on with what he had begun. Seconds after applying a clean white bandage to his cousin's temple, he was worrying about the jury-rigged dressing on her arm.

" _Tsssh_." The odd disagreeable sound from Chin made Kono look down. It was reddened and inflamed; and no doubt, extremely painful. With a kind smile, Chin grabbed the antiseptic and a fresh pile of clean bandages. With an unhappy wrinkle of her nose, Kono readied herself for the much more painful care of the deep cut. "Let's fix this up. We have to get you all home."

Watching the attentive care, Tortorro melted backwards even more, feeling as if he was intruding on their well-established familiar routine. Baffled, he clammed his mouth tightly closed and only moved to accept a fresh canteen of water when the Asian officer calmly handed it to him.

"Danny. You're awake." Turning on additional flashlights, Steve was on his knees once more checking on his partner's poor condition, surprised to find Danny's eyes opened.

"Steve?" The lights were dim and Danny was still making slow mental adjustments. He blinked, squinted and then frowned as he fuzzily stared up at Steve's face. He anticipated seeing Kono and certainly not his partner regardless of what he'd just been told. But of course, that was exactly what Kono had meant when trying to describe the appearance of the emergency blanket, oxygen and intravenous inserted so carefully into his arm.

"Hey." Under the oxygen mask, a small smile finally made it to Danny's lips.

"Hey yourself." Grinning back, Steve calmly talked to him much as Kono had just done. "You look a little better, partner." While Steve considered Danny to still be shocky and he was frighteningly weak, his general waking state was certainly a much better sign. Their journey was far from over though and Steve made their next steps clear as he rechecked the pressure bandages and Danny's distressingly low vitals. "We're good here and have a chopper ready on the beach."

"Great." Weakly, Danny rolled his eyes at the concept of another flight and Steve chuckled at the silently communicated joke.

"You don't have to do a thing, Danno." Though it wasn't too far, the few miles back would be an arduous chore for the three. He and Chin would need to be careful with each so they all made it back as safely as possible. "You're getting a free ride, buddy." Waiting for the sketchy agreement, Steve had the portable stretcher out and was assembling it with a much too practiced ease. But instead of moving Danny, he turned to Tortorro as if finally remembering something.

"Ribs you said? Let me see your arm." Steve's terse demand was met with a hesitant nod. Feeling as if he were eight years old, Tortorro sat as quietly as he could while the Five-0 officer gently palpitated his ribs. He mumbled a curse when the fingers connected with the two offending bones up high under his right arm.

"Cracked pretty good but they don't seem too bad." Steve made an approving face because their ward would likely be able to manage the trip back down to the beach without too much difficulty. Dragging the medical supplies to his side, he cut away the old makeshift bandage on the through and through. As with Kono's slashing wound, the criminal's arm was also red and weeping, testament to the budding infection.

Tortorro couldn't control his pained verbal reaction when Steve diligently poured antiseptic and then deftly packed the wound with clean gauze. Within minutes though, the ugly trussed bandage had been replaced with a professional looking and much more soothing wrap.

"If you try anything, you'll be dealing directly with me." Tortorro set his lips defensively when Steve grabbed his bound wrists. A silver key suddenly dangled between them. "I need you to behave yourself. I can't have you falling in the middle of the night and breaking your damned neck."

Tortorro gently massaged his wrists once the cuffs were removed. "This is the one and only warning you're going to hear." Steve reiterated dangerously. Not quite able to find his tongue for an adequate reply and not needing to guess what had happened to his brother's hired help, Tortorro managed an acceptable facsimile of a nod when Steve waited for confirmation.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	10. Chapter 10

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TEN**

 

Duke Lukela heard the lawyer out. By the time he finished speaking and Duke had diligently cross-examined his story, he absolutely believed that he was being told the truth. It explained Andrea Winston's volatile temper and less than helpful demeanor. For his part, Douglas Pratt was an emotional mess. Shaking and nauseous, Duke was now the one wide-eyed as he followed the desperate man into the hotel bathroom. He stood in the doorway as Pratt tried to veritably drown himself in the sink.

"I'm responsible for killing three people. Maybe more." Doug's eyes were closed as he hung miserably over the sink. Reaching past his shoulder, Duke shut the water off and shoved a towel into his hands.

"It doesn't make any of this right or you feel better, but you are under severe duress. Do you have any idea where they're keeping your wife?" The responsive tremor increased as the lawyer white-knuckled the simple vanity.

"No, Andrea won't say a word until the Coast Guard reports come in about Al's death. If he's made it out alive, I don't know where Trish is and I don't know what's going to happen next." Pratt roughly thumbed the cold water back on as his stomach heaved. Using both hands, he doused his face over again until he could almost think coherently and then hid in the damp towel.

Next to his left shoulder, he heard the HPD Sergeant sigh. "All of this explains Winston's anger. She's got quite the temper."

"She has her father's temper. She has Angel Tortorro's vile temper and I don't doubt, his vindictiveness." Dropping the towel to the floor, Doug stared at himself and then the Sergeant's reflection in the mirror.

"I'm not saying that Al is a great guy; far from it. But if you compare the two brothers side by side, Angel is significantly  _more_  of just about everything." Duke sucked in a strong worried breath through his nose. He'd seen photos of Angel Tortorro. The thick, heavy-set man was truly the physical antithesis of his more slight, studious looking younger brother. He wasn't entirely astonished to learn that his temperament was also more cruel; in fact, it made sense based upon his higher station within the underground organization.

Continuing to watch the officer, Doug finished his point. "They won't stop until Al Tortorro is dead and Andrea's father walks away a free man. If they haven't succeeded in the first half of that plan tonight, then I'll never see Trish again. Through Andrea, Angel is pulling strings from jail. Somehow. Someway."

Duke rubbed his hand across his chin and considered the distraught man's sentences. He mulled a new thought over deeply before slowly voicing a reasonable next step. At least it was reasonable to him if he could reach Steve ….  _and_  have Andrea Winston's personal cell phone and her call records thoroughly examined. Until he knew more though, he wasn't ready yet to make any promises to the Douglas Pratt, the husband.

"I may have something. You'll need to trust me on this." Intentionally vague, Duke coaxed Doug from the bathroom and aimed him for the hotel's bed. "Don't speak to anyone else."

Feeling lost but slightly more appeased by the officer's naturally quiet and pensive demeanor, Doug snorted softly as he watched Duke finally leave the room. He had no one to talk to except for the older man.

In the hotel corridor, Duke didn't even look at the door for the room occupied by Andrea Winston. Instead, he went directly to his own quiet hotel room to conduct a number of very specific phone calls. His demands would trump all other work being dutifully conducted on the nine persons' of interest and percolate Andrea Winston directly to the top of that heap.

Everyone's devices were being examined; particularly their call records additional background checks. First, he contacted the crime lab and then a trusted colleague at HPD to expedite the investigation into both Winston's and Pratt's call records and general background. He made it clear that he needed to know every incoming and outgoing call within the last three days to coincide with Trish Pratt's kidnapping.

It was a critical exercise which he hoped would lead an HPD team to Douglas Pratt's wife. According to the lawyer, whomever Andrea Winston occasionally spoke to was taking orders about Trish's care .. and uncertain future.

Secondly, his intent was to contact Five-0 while Winston remained under lock and key. The fate of Al Tortorro was dictating the fate of an innocent woman and he naturally knew that the information coming from the search and rescue teams would have a potentially dire end result.

What he didn't realize was that Andrea Winston was far from sitting idle behind closed doors. As part of their arrangement, those under lock and key were permitted to order room service from the hotel's kitchen. Ever devious, Andrea knew what would be happening with their confiscated wireless devices. She could guess what the jittery lawyer might do and her time was very limited. With the diligence of HPD monitoring her every move, her only opportunity lay with the hotel staff.

Andrea ordered a somewhat simple dinner while Duke Lukela was in the midst of hearing Pratt's heartfelt confession. Humming to herself, she then dumped the contents of her wallet open across the bed.

"Five hundred dollars. Should be just enough." Smugly content, Andrea arranged the money neatly and then intentionally hopped into the shower. When the knock sounded lightly on her door, she opened it sweetly and peeked casually past the waiter. Another member of the hotel's staff was delivering a meal to some other room and she waited only long enough to see if was Doug Pratt, but the welcoming voice was not his.

Of greater importance, the older HPD Sergeant was no where to be seen and his junior officer was stationed by the elevator. She would have less than a minute to orchestrate her one and only plan. Ignoring the lone officer, she held the door open for the waiter to bring in the food cart.

"Hi. Manny? Is that your name?" Doe-eyed and leaning forward coyly to read his name tag, she had wrapped herself in one plush white towel. Her posture caused her hair to swing forward and her towel to sloppily fall down just enough in the front.

"Put it anywhere." Andrea's voice quavered slightly and the waiter briefly hesitated. As she had expected, the waiter was foreign, young and eager to please. Especially a half-naked barefoot woman who seemed to be on the verge of tears. As he blushed and managed to peel his eyes from day-dreaming about what was under the towel, his eyes fell to the cash laid so casually on the bed.

"Is everything alright, miss?" Manny wasn't supposed to linger more than seconds as food was delivered. In fact, the door to the room wasn't to be closed; yet, there it was slowly swinging shut. He carefully and respectfully edged towards that exit to provide the female hotel guest adequate space. But his eyes were straying from the bed to her hand which was wrapped tightly in the front of the towel.

"Miss?" The towel parted above her knee as she walked towards him and he reddened even more at the expanse of exposed skin. His whisper was confused as he tried to leave. "Excuse me."

However, that was when Andrea Winston burst into near-silent tears. "Please." Frantically spilling words in a fast rush, she plaintively grabbed his sleeve."I need your help. Please."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

"Ready?" As the wind picked up, Steve was situated at Danny's head with Chin down by his feet. Danny had been quietly insisting that he felt fine, but Steve knew better based upon a much too rapid pulse and still ashen complexion. Oxygen, a field bandage and one hastily run intravenous line were band aids barring proper medical care. After a brief argument, Steve had compromised in injecting Danny with a small half-dose of morphine. The shift in position would be brief, but traumatic. Once they began to actually move, Steve worried that the small dose would not be enough. Until then though, he had to accept the compromise.

"Go for it." On top of that, the muffled reply from his partner fell short at being wholly optimistic.

"Try to relax and let us do the work." Glancing down, Steve saw that Danny's eyes were already tightly squeezed shut in preparation. Wending his hands under Danny's shoulders to brace his upper body, Steve nodded to Chin.

"On three." Their count was steady and the move made as gently as possible but Danny gasped involuntarily as he was efficiently transferred to the stretcher. Near his side, Kono was holding the bagged fluids and ensuring the intravenous line didn't snag. Then it was Chin who tucked the emergency blanket back into place with the small oxygen tank wedged between his knees.

"How are you doing?" Other than the simple question, Chin was uncharacteristically quiet. He measured the lackluster shine to Danny's eyes when they finally reopened and the way his friend managed only a weary smile of sorts in response.

"S'alright." Danny murmured around a wince as his eyes fluttered tiredly closed proving to be the real answer as Chin looked uneasily to Steve. Taking methodical breaths, Danny was trying to ready himself for the pending trip. The mask fogged repeatedly in short unsteady spurts and he was slowly flexing his fingers as if testing their ability to work.

Using another check of Danny's pulse as an excuse, Chin frowned as he caught the chill of his hand. "Cold, Danny?"

"Tired. M'fine." Eyes still closed, Danny's answer was remote and far from reassuring. The dampness of both night plus the humidity of the pending rain brought an odd feeling. It was uncomfortable as the wind quickened but Danny was cold for a different reason. Between the two men, Kono caught the shared look of concern.

Both were clearly worried about the trip back down and how not only Danny, but how also she and Tortorro would additionally fare. Idly, she rubbed at the bandage on her arm. For the size of the ache there, her temple continued to be her larger complaint. But for the moment, she was blessed by a sheer lack of nausea and merely a touch of dizziness.

"Listen up." Before leaving, Steve intentionally cornered Al Tortorro in a one on one tete-a-tete. Despite the man's own injuries, Steve was unforgiving. "We have a job to do. However, I have zero issue with altering that job if you pull anything. One mis-step, one funny look in the wrong direction and you have my word on the one and only end result."

Holding his last breath as silence fell between them, Al shrugged as if he'd been every inch a model citizen and would continue to act accordingly. "I want to get out of here in one piece as much as you do."

It was all he would say on the matter while he absorbed the Five-0 Commander's stern appraising look. The two had not come to an agreement as just yet, but at least in the short-term, they understood each other.

"Kono." Without looking, Steve called to his youngest team-mate over his shoulder. "You and Tortorro will take the lead and light the way. If there's any trouble at all, you know what to do." Grinding his jaw from left to right, Al Tortorro glowered at the continuing threats. He understood that the positioning wisely put him directly in not only the Commander's sights, but also the Asian officer's. None of the team for that matter would provide him a single opportunity which frankly, he'd no intention of putting to the test. While the man was in his right to be so blatantly cautious, Totorro still showed his displeasure even though his family's powerful and ill-begotten reputation was absolutely without precedent.

"You can do this, brah." Kneeling by Danny, Kono rested her hand on his shoulder. He chuffed worriedly as he gazed at her arm and then into eyes that were still too pain-filled for his liking.

"I got it easy." Danny griped softly. Besides worrying about Kono's pinched expression, he felt useless and a burden to the team as Chin and Steve slowly lifted the stretcher. But the feeling of the new helpless movement instantly let him know what he was in for as his eyes slammed shut. His thumbs up sign was the only thing response given to Kono's concerned query. It would be Danny's only method of communication for the excruciatingly slow journey which began at the very worst part of the rocky path.

Except for working together to negotiate debris and rocks, there was precious little other conversation for the first fifteen minutes. All attention was focused on each other and how best to move in the dark and then over each forbidding obstacle. Forcing his upper body to remain even to limit the severe jostle of the stretcher, Steve suddenly slammed hard to his left knee. Just nearing the last of the heavy debris field, his boot had unluckily found a few unstable rocks made worse by humid wetness.

"Shit!" His curse was compounded by the slap of bone into rock and a pained reactive groan from Danny. Jostled regardless of Steve's best efforts, the hard motion rocked him.

"Chin. Shit." Breathless and ignoring the sharpness in his knee, Steve muscled through the need to regain control of the stretcher. "Hold up. Danny ... easy."

But Chin had instantly stopped as soon as he felt the uneven hold threateningly tip only to recover at the last-minute. The stretcher was eased down the rest of the way but Danny's face was pinched in pain. Under the oxygen mask, he was panting and convulsively holding the bandages over his side. The constant jockeying of the stretcher over the rough terrain had increased his stress exponentially. The near fall had made that worse.

"Steve?" Finding the energy to fist Tortorro's shirt, Kono pulled him closer back to where the two men had lost cadence. She and Tortorro had diligently been using lights to mark the way and coach the two over obstacles, but turning away for a moment, she'd missed what had just happened.

"Are you okay?" Flicking her light in a wide beam across her cousin, the stretcher and toward Steve, Kono tried to see what was wrong. Looking finally at Steve's grim face, he was definitely more angered with himself than expressing injury.

"I'm fine. Dammit." A furious look aimed towards Tortorro had the exhausted criminal raising his free hand slightly higher in supplication. Relieved to rest regardless of the reason, he loosely crumpled to the ground where he stood.

"Sorry, Danno." Berating himself, Steve cursed again as he used one of the lights to check on his partner. Ignoring the faintly mumbled reassurances, Steve only heard the harsh staccato sounds of pained inhaled breaths. His pulse was rapid and thready, clearly alluding to the spike in stress and pain.

"Maybe ... you should .. stick to ... water." As they traversed the worst of the rocky downhill section, Danny had slowly been coming undone. Being toted along was becoming as harrowing as if he'd been walking himself. Disoriented by the awkward swaying and constant motion, his wherewithal to cope had been chiseled away inch by inch. The last hard bump severely rattled both his injuries and last dregs of energy. Escaping into words to allay his discomfort, he purposefully sucked breath after breach of oxygen into his lungs as a way to steady himself. Instead, he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

Danny tried to be funny and failed based upon Steve's stricken face. Not even Chin saw fit for a smile as vital signs fluctuated despite their initial care; the move was simply an overwhelming feat for a traumatized body. Reaching forward, Chin lay a hand across Danny's face and then pressed two fingers into his neck to feel the too rapid, staccato beat.

"Slow down your breathing if you can." Chin quietly admonished. Slick with a cold sweat, his worry mounted for his friend. "Take it easy, Danny." Attempting to deflect the tension he saw in Steve, too, Chin shook his head in frustration as Danny insisted on another version of the same joke.

Bleary eyes partly focused on his partner, Danny pushed again around a slightly calmer exhale. "SEAL's ... prefer water. So, I .. hear."

"Shut up." Steve's reply was decidedly upset and much more harsh than intended. Pawing sweat off his face, he ignored the half-smile as he began rummaging desperately through his pack. His next words were less judgmental but no less worried. "You need to rest and not talk so much, Danno."

He'd given Danny a small dose of morphine before leaving the upper ledge. Hoping he'd taken the edge off what was to come it wasn't enough and now, Steve injected a more suitable dose as his partner groaned in protest. "Not this time, partner. Not this time ... you need it and we have it."

"We need to get them back." Chin stated quietly as Danny's eyes drifted closed. The winds were more steady now but they were still managing to stay just ahead of the rain. As a gust rippled through, Chin watched while Steve briefly hung his head in apology and self-retribution. It took a moment for the man to gather himself to announce his readiness.

"Yeah. On three, let's move out." Steve nodded as they regrouped and resumed their original positions. Slowly and carefully, he and Chin lifted the stretcher once more. Unseen, Danny's hand flopped under the blanket. He had gotten his breathing back under control with the help of the larger dose of morphine which had acted very quickly as a blessed balm.

As his lethargy grew, Danny had to force his eyes to stay open. "Go." He whispered up into Steve's rather upside-down, very distressed eyes. "Fine. Go, Steven."

Reluctantly, they moved forward. Kono glanced once over her shoulder, frowning at Steve's continued angered expression as he now limped carefully along. There was relief that they had negotiated the worst of the slippery rocks, but Danny was drenched in a cold sweat and one hand hung limply off the side of the stretcher. She glanced worriedly at Steve, but he was focused on walking with another circumspect eye towards Tortorro.

With that, Steve's initial plan for Kono to lead the way began to unwind as she became more concerned about Danny's welfare. The exertion was also finally bringing on more dizziness and she was rickety on her own feet as she and Tortorro continued to light the way for the two burdened men.

Uncertain of what to do and justifiably blaming it on his eyesight, Tortorro wound up flanking the opposite side of the stretcher closer to Chin's hand as Kono dropped back. Limping and hunched for his damaged ribs, he took surreptitious looks at the female officer from where he had the optimal view. Even though the ground was much better to navigate, she was struggling. As she whispered encouragement to the downed detective, her face had become ashen and Tortorro muttered disgustedly to himself.

"What." The deep tonal voice came from behind Tortorro and he narrowed his eyes before partially turning. The team's commander had noticed or heard his faintly voiced complaint and was questioning it. His mood was sour and he was more on edge than before. Evidently he, Al Tortorro, was the man's strongest primary focus other than for the cargo he so carefully carried along. But the reality was, he had no easy view of his female officer's face.

Very subtly, Tortorro cocked his head across the stretcher to where Kono limped along. It was enough, and when he caught the leader's studied eye, the man nodded.

"Chin. Up ahead ... we need to take five."

Panting quietly against a migraine, Kono sank thankfully down to the ground next to the stretcher. Fatigue took over willfully as she closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands once she realized that Danny was either sleeping or unconscious. Every step had become a torturous nightmare and once again, nausea was rippling through her stomach.

"You don't need to worry about me." Feeling dual sets of concerned eyes on her, Kono's voice was thin and it cracked alarmingly on the last few whispered syllables. She felt Steve propping her back up against his chest just as her cousin plied her hands with the canteen. Backpacks discarded, the two were back to evaluating each injured person's well-being.

"Meds didn't work?" Meaning the pills she'd taken earlier, Steve coached the truth out of her. It was more than apparent that they needed help as Kono unconsciously sagged backwards. While it wasn't technically far now to the beach, it would be an insurmountable distance for Kono. When Steve glanced towards Tortorro, the criminal's very similar pained posture and shattered breathing were a testament to his potential collapse.

"Chin. Make the call to Abrams. But I want any and all details continually limited." They were unraveling and though it wasn't far, they absolutely needed more help at that point. Chin pantomimed the need for another stretcher, possibly even two while his cousin wasn't looking, and Steve nodded in agreement.

"What are you doing! I'm fine!" Intentionally shifted to lay flat on her back, Kono's eyes flew open as Steve pulled Chin's backpack closer. One hand was firmly anchored to her shoulder, fighting every annoyed and attempted move upwards. "Boss,  _I_  ..I'm fine!"

"Nope." His offhand refusal and the severe look in his eyes rendered her speechless. "Decision's been made. Close your eyes and get some rest so I can check on Danny again."

In the background, Chin's conversation with Abrams hummed along reassuringly. Once again, Steve pulled out the vial of morphine and new syringe. Her astonished refusal was met with a stronger denial as he measured her exhausted state. He shook his head not only at her defiant stamina, but then offered the same interested look for Al Tortorro's sake. Eyes closed wearily where he so limply sat, the criminal wasn't even aware of it though.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	11. Chapter 11

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

 

Steve watched as Al Tortorro slowly scooted across the ground to lean against a convenient rock. Seconds later, it appeared as if he'd fallen asleep with his head cocked uncomfortably and his injured arm nested in the crook of the other. Frankly, Steve couldn't blame the man as he repositioned himself slightly in case something changed without warning. Crouched between Kono and Danny, he also had an astute ear turned towards Chin. Continuing to speak softly, the timbre of the conversation had completely altered and he realized that the call was no longer with the Coast Guard.

For the umpteenth time, Steve checked his watch and mentally counted the minutes though it wasn't necessary as the gauge edged towards the red line. The small emergency cylinder of oxygen was nearing empty and Steve reluctantly had to remove the oxygen mask from Danny's face. He'd had the flow on full and it was simply inevitable. Another recheck of Danny's pulse rate found that to be continually rapid and Steve hissed out a worried breath. Adding in the cold and still very clammy texture of skin meant that he was still shocky.

To his left, Kono was pillowed on his backpack with one canteen held loosely in her left hand. Eyes closed, she was much calmer after being given a dose of morphine. But her cheek was beginning to purple under the dressing which Chin had applied. She had been badly banged around in the crash and would be sporting an even more impressive bruise by morning.

"How long?" Steve looked up as Chin finally joined him. Intentionally keeping their voices low, the two were nearly nose to nose.

"About forty minutes; probably a bit less now." Chin replied with an unhappy throaty sound for both Kono and Danny's combined sakes. He had intentionally positioned himself similarly to Steve so that Tortorro remained in their dual lines of sight. However, he also concluded that the criminal was no threat based on the lax face he could just see for the carefully placed lanterns. The three were beaten, bruised and exhausted; none of them would be moving an inch without assistance. "How are they doing?"

"Not too bad. Considering what they've been through." There was a fast dissatisfied quirk to Steve's lips before he responded. It was easy enough to see that Danny was and had been struggling. The severity of Kono's concussion was more than worrisome and all three risked infection from their various wounds. Forty minutes would feel like another eternity had passed and that was only until more hands arrived. More time would tick away to return to the beach for the flight back to the nearest hospital. Closing his eyes to communicate his disgust, Steve realized he needed to return the HPD chopper so hastily borrowed earlier in the day. What was convenient then, certainly was another cog in yet another wheel.

Without being asked, Chin softly shared the ample information he'd been given starting with the call to the Coast Guard. "Abrams stayed on the beach with his team. He's coming to us with the medic and two of his men."

"What's wrong then?" It was easy to see something more had happened though. Another call had been made and Steve was more than curious by Chin's dark expression. His friend was on edge and nearly antsy and at first, Steve was concerned that the Coasties were the issue. He was surprised though as Chin explained what had happened after his first call.

Chin's voice was inordinately low as he bent his head more closely in Steve's direction. "According to Abrams, Duke's been trying to reach us but didn't want to jeopardize our radio silence. So, I just contacted him directly ... and Steve, we have our leak."

His next pointed look was aimed directly at Al Tortorro and at a loss, Steve frowned in askance. Chin waited half a heart beat before whispering an most unexpected name. "Douglas Pratt."

"What?" The stunned whisper was almost too loud and Steve tucked his chin in disbelief. "The man's own lawyer? That makes no sense. He's been defending Al for months."

"They, as in Angel Tortorro, have his wife. " Grim-faced, Chin quickly divulged everything he'd been told by the HPD sergeant. "They took her almost three days ago and are threatening to kill her if Al survives this little escapade. They forced Pratt to divulge records, shred evidence and other files, and hand over case-related information such as the flight plans for Tortorro's transfer. It seems that the person pulling the strings locally is Andrea Winston, Pratt's personal legal assistant."

"Hold on. Pratt didn't know the connections of who he hired in his own office?" Steve asked in disbelief, though the Tortorro family was a renowned underground power. Pratt's law office could have diligently checked every official reference, earned degree and formal background to grade school and still could have been blind to the actual truth. Things could be hidden quite well while others purchased to mimic a fake reality.

"I don't believe that he didn't know something." Steve knew what the family was capable of, yet found the entire situation mind-boggling in its complexity. The one thing Steve had issue with was Al Tortorro, himself. He watched the sleeping criminal as he hissed out a rather key question. "Not a clue that Pratt was in danger or being forced to fabricate complete failure of his own defense?" But Chin was already shaking his head. Douglas Pratt had become a puppet and for the last few short days, had been living in fear. It had all happened much too fast with a professional's evil skill.

"As far as anyone knows, Al isn't aware of anything. Andrea Winston rarely leaves the office since she's not high enough in the legal food chain per se." Chin reconfirmed. As an assistant, Andrea would be important to the inner workings of the firm by doing case research or drafting briefs or maintaining documents. She'd have access to a great deal of information and confidential files, but have no real need to come face to face with clients or attend court hearings.

Based on Chin's expression though there was a great deal more and Steve made a face. "What? What else is there?" The news was bad and Steve wasn't sure how it could possibly get much worse.

"The kicker is that Andrea Winston is Angel Tortorro's eldest daughter and therefore, Al's niece. She was intentionally planted in the firm a few months ago. It seems like daddy's little girl is taking orders from her old man or from someone in the family to manipulate this debacle into a mis-trial so that his case over-turned. She's forced Pratt to lose and shred evidence on purpose. She orchestrated his wife's disappearance and is continuing to black-mail him to get her father released."

"So if Al comes out of here alive tonight, Mrs. Pratt is going to disappear. Permanently." Steve was stunned by the odd state of affairs. He also knew that there was no guarantee for the woman's survival even if Al had been killed as planned. They had no idea who else had infiltrated the high profile trial's rather close ranks and another threat could come from any direction.

"Where are they now?"

Oddly, Chin smiled at that question with a bit of professional pride. "Duke rounded them all up like we asked. He has them all downtown at a hotel in private rooms. The Big Island contingent is being maintained in exactly the same manner. No phones or communication of any kind as demanded until the leak was confirmed. That move allowed Pratt the privacy to speak to Duke."

"And it gives us at least some of the control we needed; but we have this new wrinkle with Pratt's wife." Steve noted wryly. He couldn't stop himself from looking where Al Tortorro sat slumped over with his eyes closed.

"This is bad, bad news." Steve muttered under his breath. The war between the two brothers had killed three innocent people in the last few hours alone. Two following orders had nearly followed the same route, and now another was still in grave danger.

Chin couldn't help but agree as he studied his cousin's slightly more peaceful face. "Duke's started on a plan of action. He wants to announce Al's demise to everyone. Tonight. Now in fact." Approving wholeheartedly, Steve pursed his lips as he listened.

"He's already tagged Winston's call and data records, plus has CSU reviewing her wireless device's SIM Card. They've identified one number in particular which is a favorite." Speaking quickly, Chin shared the more than sufficient information garnered by a very industrious Duke Lukela.

"Duke's hoping to get a location nailed down so that he can at least find Pratt's wife." It was indeed a long shot and Steve chuffed thoughtfully about the privilege of having such luck. A long shot that could happen if Duke gained some control and played the data he could uncover. Salvaging the larger trial would be more of a concern for the Legal experts, but law enforcement could and would do their job to keep people alive and breathing.

"It takes a load off of everyone if he can coordinate rescue before it's too late." Steve was duly impressed.

"He wants Pratt to believe it, too, and for his emotions to continue to be genuine. The lawyer is not in on the know right now. Just us … no one else." Chin added. That same level of information would be held from Al Tortorro, too.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

It took almost forty-five diligent minutes for Duke to set his plans into motion. But he was far from the only one plotting and planning within the hotel's walls. In fact, after giving half the money on the bed to Manny for indefinite use of his cell phone, Andrea was now tucked tightly under the fabric skirt of the food cart as he wheeled it back to the kitchen. Pausing by an employee exit, he waited for them to be alone before helping Andrea one last time.

"You can get out through this door. Follow the alley and you'll wind up on the opposite side of the hotel. You can get a taxi there." Manny staggered backwards as the once distraught woman flung her arms warmly around his neck. Keeping one hundred dollars for herself, Andrea tucked the remaining money into his hands.

From the moment her dinner had arrived and she had tearfully acted her way into Manny's sympathy, they had coordinated a thirty minute gap of time before the food trays would be retrieved. During that time, Andrea had made two phone calls. The first was to the lone man she had guarding Douglas Pratt's wife in a hotel property owned by a holding company which could be traced messily back to the Tortorro family if someone tried hard enough.

 _"Leave her there."_  Andrea had growled into the phone.  _"Just leave her and get moving. This is going to be the last chance we have if my dear uncle is still alive."_

Trish Pratt's future was no longer something she could use to her benefit. The woman's life was no longer an important factor to any equation. Andrea's objective was to ensure that her uncle no longer survived, followed by her own provident disappearance off the island. Her best guess was that any survivors would be flown directly by the Coast Guard to one of two hospitals with adequate heliports. With the FBI and other high-profile law enforcement involved, her first guess was Tripler Army Medical Center and she demanded that he go there and gain intelligence. If warranted, he was also tasked with finishing Al Tortorro off regardless of who might accidentally get in the way. Afterwards, his departure off the islands was his own problem.

Her second call then was entirely about that most important act of self-preservation. One of her father's private jets had been left sitting idle in a hangar just for this special occasion. As she patronized Manny with a final hug, she knew that her clandestine flight from Oahu was being readied.

Andrea disappeared then out the hotel's rear employee doorway. It was an easy task to follow Manny's directions down the dark alley and towards a brightly lit street. She slowed her pace purposefully as she emerged between two closed boutiques to study the few nighttime pedestrians and the light traffic. By the time Sergeant Duke Lukela finished his call with Chin Ho Kelly, Andrea Winston was happily easing into the back seat of an Oahu taxi cab.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	12. Chapter 12

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

 

Kono woke shortly after the small Coast Guard contingent arrived. The addition of more human bodies and focused activity filled the quiet void she'd fallen so peacefully into and she snapped her eyes open with a start. For a brief instant, the ache in her head flared and a pang of nausea made her lightly cough.

There were more people and more flashlights brightening the small area where they huddled. Conversation was louder and fraught with urgency. The scent of rain was markedly stronger too, and Kono felt as if the air was already flooded with water, the humidity was so thick. Her hair was uncomfortably wet, as was her clothing. Without moving too much, Kono focused on the situation at hand. The medic and Chin were talking down by her feet but practically above where she lay. Dismally, she realized they were discussing dehydration and very obvious signs of a severe concussion. It didn't take long for her mind to catch up with what was happening, yet she flinched when she realized the medic suddenly had her arm and was in the process of inserting an intravenous line for fluids.

"Kono." A smile broke out across Chin's face as he crept closer and did a double-take into eyes that were fatigued but happily wide open. "You had a nice rest, cuz. How do you feel?" He grinned in relief when she smiled in return while the medic continued to evaluate her for being moved.

"How's Danny?" Her own personal physical complaints were about the same, but her one track mind negated any concern about that condition as she neatly changed the subject. Chin's raised eyebrow was almost comical if not for the worry which lurked so blatantly across his face. Still elevated on the backpack, she could just see over the medic's shoulder to where Steve and two other Coast Guardsmen flanked Danny's body on the stretcher.

When he didn't answer fast enough, Kono tried to get up to see for herself. "Chin? How is he?" Her resultant gasp as pain rocketed sharply through her head had the medic instantly pushing her back.

"No, no! Just relax. Breathe for me .. nice and slow." The medic was grim-faced as he kept one hand on her shoulder and the other fumbling for the blood pressure gauge. Eyes tightly closed against an onslaught of unexpected migraine-like stabbing pain, his patient was suddenly gray-faced and near to an unanticipated round of dry-heaves. Both of which she could ill-afford due to her level of exhaustion and dehydrated state.

"Kono! Do what he says, cuz. Try to control your breathing." On her opposite side, Chin was now on his knees and unwinding spasmodically clenched fingers. "You need to stay down with the IV, but Danny's going to be fine."

The sudden spike in pain and alarming change to her pallor had Chin staring in a frightened askance at the medic. The serious nod was less than soothing though as he sighed at the results of her much too fast reaction. Besides the physical pain and nausea, her blood pressure had reached an upper limit which he didn't like. "She needs to rest and not get so worked up."

"Do you hear that?" Chin turned back to his cousin with a determined commanding look. His quiet demeanor and lower voice demanded that she relax and allow the others to manage the situation. "He's going to be okay, Kono. Everything's under control."

But while Chin certainly wasn't lying, the ongoing trek to get to safer ground and real medical care was an ongoing concern. Besides worrying about her, it was the larger reason his expression remained so serious. The medic had just left Danny's side after a professionally focused examination from head to foot. He had confirmed what they suspected but then had thrown in a minor concussion, dehydration and an elevated temperature for good measure. Knuckling Danny's sternum aggressively, the medic had also failed at rousing him which added insult to injury.

The medic was concerned, Chin was badly troubled, and Steve's mood was increasingly foul.

"We have him on a fresh canister of oxygen and ran a second I.V. to push more fluids." Interrupting Chin, the medic answered her question with even more details while continuing his work. Of the three victims, the detective needed the most urgent care followed by the female officer he was now tending. The third, older man was exhausted, had an elevated temperature, and was also dehydrated. On his first cursory look, the medic had mentioned using another stretcher for him but the criminal's reaction had been quite inflammatory. In turn, the Five-0 Commander had summarily put his foot down to squash Tortorro's adamant personal decision; their third victim would indeed be carted out as well.

"Has Danny woken up?" Forcing her eyes back open, Kono determinedly pushed down the nausea with another light cough. It rattled the sharp pressure in her aching head and she winced as she pressed on. The one question was simple enough. Very simple in fact, but Chin's continued severity was telling. Looking worriedly from her cousin to the medic, Kono settled on the face of the medic as she pushed harder. "That's not good. It can't be good. Right?"

Heaving in a loud breath, the medic frowned before giving the best reply he could think of. "Soup to nuts? You've all been through a plane crash and a gun battle followed by some crazy-ass run through a jungle." He shrugged as he lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"In the middle of the night. Injured and hiding from even more ...  _crazies_." He said the last word in a conspiratorial hissed whisper for added impact. Above the dark canopy, lightning flashed high behind the clouds again as wind picked up to rustle leaves, branches and vines. Using both hands, he pointed skywards as if that had also gone berserk while grinning at the increasing sounds of Mother Nature.

"With weather blowing in." The medic let his words linger long enough for Kono to eke out a small smile. He patted her shoulder again before getting to his feet to stow his gear. "Welcome to dessert. We're going to get you all home and by tomorrow morning, I'm sure you're all going to be feeling much better. But I need you to stay down for me and to not get so worked up."

She frowned and gazed unhappily up at Chin, but there was nothing else he could share. As an answer to her original question, the medic's soliloquy was only adequate in temporarily defusing the discussion.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Duke Lukela was furious when he learned that Andrea Winston had vanished from her hotel room. He'd gained significant ground with CSU's assistance, so much so that two potential locations were being discussed as viable options in locating Trish Pratt. The antagonist was in their midst; yet that was also the coupe de grace.

He had control of critical knowledge and that had given him power. Now half of that had been irretrievably lost due to nothing more than lack of experience.

The junior HPD officer was standing at attention with his superior officer standing a hairs-breadth from his very nose. Not daring to fidget or even breathe, he stared straight ahead, red-faced and with his back literally slammed into the ornate wallpaper of the hotel's long fifth-floor corridor.

"No, sir." The much younger officer was clueless to what he'd done; to the gaffe he'd committed by not being more aware of the brief activity between rooms. He didn't understand when it happened, let alone how. He hadn't left his post and he'd been diligent in monitoring everyone who had come and gone. He could vouch that no one, other than the same two hotel staff, had brought and then subsequently removed dinners amongst those they were watching.

"No, sir." Eyes wide at the continued badgering, he stopped himself from shaking his head to compound his vow. There hadn't been a sound from any room; nothing out of the ordinary as he dutifully stood watch.

"Two hotel staff?" Nailing his forefinger painfully into the thin shoulder, Duke demanded action that would teach the officer something of value before he'd be summarily written up the very next day. "Find and bring me those two. I want them and their manager here .. now .. immediately."

"Yes, sir." Stuck in place, he was only capable of two responses to his irate Sergeant's questions.  _Yes, sir_  or  _no, sir_  depending upon the correct and most truthful answer. What he didn't expect was the fisted pull on his uniform collar that propelled him from the wall and partly down the corridor.

"Then do it!" Lukela barked loudly to spur him on to retrieve the people in question. As the officer's feet finally picked up a pace from an awkward stumble to purposeful jog, Duke angrily ran his hand through his thinning hair. The junior HPD officer was more than good at the job; he was a top of the class graduate, typically reliable and very astute. But in many ways, as was just proven, also green as grass.

"Damn it." Lukela didn't even try to be quiet at that point. Green as grass had been up against a much more devious foe. Andrea Winston had been weaned on deceit and trickery; whatever it was which she had so cleanly orchestrated had come to her as easily as breathing.

Still, Duke's driven tirade in the hallway was well-founded based upon an embarrassing failure to maintain his responsibilities while simultaneously conducting an investigation. He growled as his phone vibrated against his hip.

"Lukela." Completely distracted, his own name was growled out in a similar angry fashion as he spun in a hectically paced circle. Wedging the phone to his ear, he paused mid-stomp to ground out one hopeful word. "Where?"

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	13. Chapter 13

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

 

Chin had received Duke's call just before entering the Coast Guard medevac helicopter. Steve was lingering briefly to make sure that Danny, Kono and Tortorro were safely onboard before leaving himself. Everyone was occasionally glancing upwards as the skies continued to darken ominously. But so far they had been lucky with the actual rain continuing to hold off.

"She's gone! Winston!" He had to virtually scream over the roar of the blades as the pilot readied to leave. But the expression on his face said it all as he needlessly clarified who for Steve. "Andrea Winston .. she's gone! She paid off a hotel waiter and managed to sneak out with his help without being seen. He's not sure when it happened."

The curse that sounded from Steve was effectively drowned out by the escalating noise surrounding them. " _He_ " meant Duke Lukela and Steve was stunned by the update. It was obvious by the anger in his eyes what his feelings were about the news. There was no time to get into what it might mean though or what else there could be to share, because behind where Chin was standing, Abrams was gesturing wildly. They needed to go and they needed to go now.

Steve had insisted upon Chin remaining with the trio and especially due to the sheer danger surrounding Tortorro and the continued nature of their business to protect the man. Even if sticking to the plan to intentionally plant intel that he'd been killed, there was continued danger because Angel Tortorro would want proof right up until the day of his sentencing. So without a doubt, this latest news only solidified that need. While Chin personally enforced their safety, Steve would pilot the HPD chopper back to its permanent base and retrieve his truck.

"I'll meet you at Tripler. Be careful, I'll be there about thirty minutes after you land." Utterly disgusted and shaking his head in anger, Steve threw his hands up in the air. He knew Duke's temper and the strong likelihood of the man to already lambaste himself for the woman's escape. It was all Steve could do though as Chin turned and ducked low to run back to the Coast Guard helicopter before it could be fully fired up. At first standing there with is hands on his hips, Steve wound up needing to leave the beach proper for the fringes of the jungle. As the chopper began to lift off, the stinging 100-mile-an-hour rotor wash whipped up dangerous amounts of both sand and seawater. But once the larger bird left, he dove for the smaller and more agile HPD version.

Out of breath and growling to himself, Chin took the closest available seat to watch the team's continued work on all three of the injured. Each was wearing a headset for protection from the overwhelming noise and Chin nodded his thanks as yet another spare was handed to cover his own ears. After another argument with Steve about his ability to walk on his own, Tortorro also lay on a stretcher. The criminal might have been forced to acquiesce, but now seemed content to lay on his back despite having been handcuffed once more. Resting heavily to the side, Kono had finally given in completely to her exhaustion and migraine-like headache pains. He was as concerned as the medic once they had learned of her bouts of extreme nausea. A truth validated oddly by an enthusiastic corrective reprimand from Tortorro when Kono attempted to play it all down.

 _"It hasn't been that bad."_  Kono had tried to say, only to be interrupted first by a loudly chuffed disgusted sound. Eyes flashing, she dared him to say more and was stunned when he had the nerve.  _"Excuse me?"_

 _"She's been sick the entire time."_  Tortorro had folded his arms and then winced painfully as he dropped them to his side.  _"Very sick ... barely kept the water down after he left."_  He had jerked his head in Steve's direction at that, clearly challenging Kono to countermand every word he'd just uttered.  _"If any of it at all."_

After that, Kono had slammed her mouth closed while glowering angrily at the criminal. He had merely scowled back at her in total defiance as if daring her to deny it a second time.

Chin made a perplexed sound about the odd exchange under his breath which was immediately buried in the ambient noise. It was the first moment he had to rest himself now, and Chin was momentarily lost in thought and wondering what might come next when he realized that Danny was staring wide-eyed in his direction.

"Hey. He's awake." Leaning over where he could reach, Chin tapped the medic's shoulder to gain his attention before gesturing towards Danny. The two shifted their positions to care for the injured detective who suddenly seemed agitated by the combination of headset and oxygen mask.

Assisted by pure oxygen and dual intravenous lines, Danny had begun to waken to the noise he not only could hear, but could also feel through his very bones. He was fighting to open his eyes just as Chin was clambering aboard and the medevac began to lift off the beach. His hands flexed and then searched wildly for a moment to connect with blankets and then the vibrating metallic sidewall of the chopper. He froze for a moment staring at an unfamiliar ceiling as his stomach dipped to sudden centrifugal changes as the medevac tilted and lifted upwards at an even faster speed. It exacerbated his anxiety and brought on a very real bout of light-headedness.

"Chin." Danny found his friend's face but was far from relieved as he felt another terrifying change in altitude. He flinched and forgot to breathe when the static-filled voice tried to softly calm him through the headset. To add to his rising misery, not only was an oxygen mask fastened securely to his face, but a heavy head-set encased his ears. Then he realized he couldn't move.

"Chin." He tried, yet nothing else would come out except his friend's name. His breathing stuttered anew when the blood pressure cuff tightened around his bicep and this time, his hand did flail upwards again. Unable to control his rising sense of panic at being trapped, Danny began to fight.

"It's alright, brah." It didn't matter that he could barely hear Danny for the oxygen mask. It interfered with the headset and built in microphone; because he could certainly understand his name easily enough. "You're okay."

Chin grabbed the frantic fingers before they could connect with the side of the medic's own helmeted head. His other hand flew to Danny's shoulder as he weakly heaved upwards against the straps used on the stretcher to keep a patient in place. That fact only made matters much worse as Chin fought to help get Danny back under a semblance of control. "Danny, we're going home." For a moment, he was taken aback by the unexpectedly frightened look in his Danny's eyes as they flew towards the hospital. "We're only a few minutes out."

"His temperature is spiking." The medic was quiet and nearly speaking to himself as he showed the reading to Chin. "His confusion is part and parcel of that combined with shock. On top of it, I don't envy him needing to fly so soon and this is not exactly first class." The Coasties knew their pilot was concerned about the weather and was dealing with fickle winds, though there was still no actual rain. Working with flight control, he was constantly considering and adapting to the best travel course to avoid the worst of changeable weather conditions. They were in no danger, but his skillful flying was wreaking havoc on one of their three patients.

"Got it." Chin muttered just as quietly. While the helicopter might not be five-star's worth of comfort, the care was astronomically perfect and he greatly appreciated the medic's expertise.

"We're okay, Danny. Everyone's on board." Nearly strangling Danny's fingers as he heaved in protest, Chin leaned in closer to lock eyes. "Kono's off to your right, brah. She's going to be okay after a few days in the hospital." He waited and then grinned as that slowly made its way through the confusion. "You probably know already that she had a pretty bad concussion."

There was a slight nod and Chin raised a curious eyebrow as he measured Danny's face to conclude that his tactic was working. "Her ribs are bruised up, too. But nothing to write home about."

As he internalized his battle, Danny's eyes closed tightly in a face heavily lined with stress and a dull, but very persistent ache felt with each shaky breath. It was a hazy unsettling experience to argue with himself as the chopper banked to the right. Through a broken inhale, his initial focus wound up being the tight hold that Chin maintained on his hand.

"Hey, brah. Look at me. Did you hear what I said about Kono?" The pressure on his fingers increased but Danny's true anchor suddenly became the man's steady voice as he prattled on first about Kono, and then Al Tortorro. On some level Danny knew precisely what Chin was doing and he was grateful for every syllable which replaced the manic noise trying to echo dangerously inside his head.

"Yeah. Kono." Danny chuffed out the sounds while reopening his eyes. He returned the tightness of Chin's hold and faintly nodded. He jolted slightly as the chopper gained altitude and their stomachs universally lurched with the uncomfortable motion.

"You probably think Steve's flying this bird." It was going to be a bad inside joke, but Chin pulled on Danny's hand before he could lose him again. Regardless of how poor it might wind up being, Chin knew that Danny would get it eventually. Nudging Abrams knee, Chin used the Coastie as part of the distraction to keep Danny's attention on the here and now. "He wanted the keys, but Abrams wouldn't allow it. So, Steve is about five minutes behind us and off flying an HPD helo back home."

Abrams forehead pinched slightly at being used in the soft conversation. He smiled kindly at the downed man, feeling a sense of relief when his team-mate's words at least seemed to make sense to him. There was a brief lull as the detective found his tongue, after which Chin Ho Kelly laughed out loud.

"Neanderthal control freak." Danny mumbled around a faint smile. "Should stick to water." Chin's laughter was genuine and it briefly lifted his spirits. But he felt queerly disoriented and at times Chin's face swam blurrily over him.

There was a longer silence as Danny apparently calmed. Ever steadfast, Chin waited to see what he might need, eventually realizing that Danny was gathering the energy to ask another question. It was only taking him a few long seconds to get out what he wanted to say, and again he was thankful for Chin's immovable presence.

"Arm? How bad?" Under the mask his voice was badly muffled and nearly imperceptible, yet Chin understood the question. Grinning in approval, Chin warmly squeezed Danny's shoulder. Behind his smile, he then hid the majority of his concern for his cousin as he wisely chose what to share. What he selected would be the truth with a heavy dose of editing to keep his friend on a more even keel.

"My triage was so good, that our medic here at first didn't feel the need to take off my expert bandaging." Still grinning, Chin barely gave Danny time to respond. "But of course he had to in the end to make sure Kono's arm hadn't exactly fallen off."

For that, the medic snorted out a laugh from where he sat next to Danny's side. He was half listening as he retook the man's blood pressure and kept a solid status of both pulse and respiration. He gave out with a slight sound of approval as his patient's readings remained somewhat high, but his overall posture calmed.

Without acknowledging the subtle messages, Chin deftly continued in his recitation. "Her arm wasn't bleeding too badly to begin with, but I'm sure it's going to need a good cleaning. Definitely stitches, but I can't even guess as to how many."

"Okay." He was paying attention now. Though he did try, another smile clearly wasn't on his agenda despite his grasp of Chin's lightly voiced jokes. "How's .. Tortorro?" The name was hard in a dry mouth and Danny stammered twice over it.

"Well, you missed the fireworks there." Conspiratorial, Chin hunkered down more closely to Danny. His breathing was still mildly erratic, but mostly improved. A coy look towards the medic communicated less than twenty short minutes before touching down at the TAMC helipad. Focused solely on keeping Danny away from negative thoughts wholly driven by illness and pain, Chin gently rubbed his shoulder soothingly when he seemed near to losing the thin hold he had on his self-control.

"Tortorro's here too." This time, bringing Danny back to center was easier and with less than thirteen minutes to go, his distractions were working. Taking his time with a purposeful calming tone, Chin got comfortable as the medic aimed a subtle thumbs up signal down by his knee. Maintaining the tactile connection, he leaned forward as he continued talking. "He thought he'd walk back to the beach, but he lost that particular argument to Steve."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

He was waiting for them in the hospital parking lot with no expectations of hearing from Angel's daughter until the job was done. He had little doubt that she was long gone anyway, using her own rather deep set of criminalistic skills. After leaving the Pratt woman as instructed, he only saw this revision to his orders as another aspect to his own latest tasks and it was much more exciting than watching a trapped woman squirm and sob at a construction site.

Broad shouldered and muscular, he sat on the bumper of his car while casually smoking a cigarette as he absorbed the comings and goings in the parking lot. He was relieved to be outside and moving as he stretched long enough to pop an elbow with a satisfying snap.

He had parked in a remote corner to be partially hidden in its shadows and after astutely identifying the few security cameras spaced intermittently from various light poles. Inhaling deeply, the bluish smoke curled out from the left side of his mouth in a fast rush as he studied the helipad structure on the roof. It was something he could barely see from his angle on the ground, but he could envision the logo emblazoned landing pad and egress into the upper floors of the hospital.

His best bet had been Tripler Army Medical Center due to US Coast Guard involvement, though Queens Medical was also a strong possibility. If he was wrong in his current assumption, he'd simply make new plans based upon revised intelligence should it be warranted. However now at TAMC, he was ready to lounge there for the immediate future while cataloging entrances, exits and employee habits. He already knew where the emergency room was, where ambulances most often came and went from, as well as which side of the building housed the hospital's cafeteria. The occasional military staff or visitor didn't even vaguely impress him; they were just additional players within the landscape.

Initial research had informed him that TAMC had been opened its excellent trauma services to the general public, so there was a definite mix of civilian to military persons. It also indicated to him that perhaps security was now more lax based upon this change in hospital mission.

It only made his pending job all the more easy if Al Tortorro was even still alive.

Just shy of an hour later, his interest piqued as the well-defined staccato  _whump-whump_  sounds of distant blades split the air from the east. Rocking off his car, he didn't even wait at that point to be sure. He knew.

He had been playing mental games and creating any number of opportunities with various outcomes as people arrived or left the hospital. What would he do if he needed a second vehicle, or perhaps a hostage? Could he easily neutralize a white-coated doctor strolling to the main entrance? What would he do if recognized or questioned as he loitered in the recesses of the large lot? Constantly imagining what he would do and how if the need presented itself, his latest creative role play was soon to come to fruition.

He had been watching the orderly wander and smoke in the darkness along a windowless exterior wall. A little-used employee exit seemed to drop onto a sidewalk which carried on to the parking lot. As he drew stealthily closer, he saw that it was actually an emergency exit which had been propped open by a large rock.

The alarm had either been broken or disabled, but it made no difference now as he timed his attack with a sinister ease. He had a knife concealed by his ankle and a small snub-nosed revolver hidden in the back of his pants, but he could not yet afford to draw blood; it was too messy and he needed his hands to be clean ... at least going in. The open door became part of the budding opportunity and he accepted it happily. The orderly was meandering with his head down as if in deep thought when one hand went over his mouth and another encircled his head. The movement after to break his neck was so quick, he literally never knew what happened.

Moments later, his stripped body lay disposed of in the deep underbrush and another orderly was re-entering the emergency exit with a cat-like stealth. Overhead, the sounds of a large helicopter were telling as it landed on the roof.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: I am so sorry for the delay. Real life got in the way - and we already know the plot bunnies are on a rampage - the good news is that I have a job though after days of interviews! I start in June - thank you for all the good luck wishes. They paid off!
> 
> The proposed layout for the noted hospital is completely contrived! As is any reference to broken or disabled doors and such ... remember this is fiction folks! Real life is likely much more happily secure. Only the name of this wonderful hospital is borrowed.
> 
> During my many hospital stays, a lot of the staff wore masks regardless of their jobs. In NY, certain hospitals are requiring staff to wear masks at all times if flu shots were refused .. hence the use of this below as a tool for my baddie.

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

 

Upon taking a frightened and confused Manny Perez into custody for aiding and abetting a dangerous suspect and worse, for obstruction of police business, Duke acted on the information garnered by the Crime Scene Unit after their analysis of Andrea Winston's SIM card and call records. The small computer chip housed data related to her text messages and voice calls which had been quickly evaluated for commonalities. Now that very night, she had used Perez's phone twice in the hotel. Attempts to locate Perez's device using its GPS failed. It was obvious that it had been destroyed once its usefulness was exhausted.

However, one distinct number was a direct match to what police investigators had analyzed off the original SIM card. More current cell site traffic and pinged activity further created an improved focal point for a search that night, drawing them now to particular small neighborhood and in fact, two buildings. One in particular was a rambling hotel which was partially under renovation.

Rather than sending a battalion of HPD units, Duke mandated that uniformed resources replace his presence at his hotel to assist his chastised junior officer maintain formal lockdown. Duke would lead the mission personally to each of the two identified locations. Though they knew Winston was the leak, plans would not be changed or altered in any manner until the issue was put to rest. That included maintaining the fallacy that Al Tortorro had been killed and not informing Douglas Pratt of HPD's current mission to locate the lawyer's wife, Trish Pratt.

Duke's final question to the CSU was still being worked. " _Who owns these buildings?_ " He wanted to know everything humanly possible to define precisely who they were up against, as well as to possibly create links and point fingers, but all of that would take time.

His first choice was solely based upon location and the one-story building's tenuous state of disrepair. As he pulled up with two other HPD patrol units, he examined the structure while walking around the front of his own vehicle. There he paused with his hands placed firmly on hips deciding what best to do next. Prepared for a trap or at best, to surprise Winston's colleagues, his overall desired end state was to at least locate the lawyer's wife. He checked his watch just as two other HPD teams radioed their readiness on the opposite side of the building. His plan was simple: approach quietly and clear the location room by room.

"Who else would she contact in this neighborhood? There's no other reason." Duke was speaking to one of his peers as he was joined at the front of his cruiser. They totaled eight in all and would break into two's to clear the rambling half-ancient structure.

Winston had used Manny's phone to tip-off the person Duke hoped was standing guard over Trish Pratt. In fact, he knew that to be precisely what she had done; the challenge was fine-tuning the exact location and the hotel seemed to be the right game in town. After solving the challenge, the over-riding concern would be how they might find the lawyer's wife. Resolving the recipient of her second call was a bit more problematic since it had been made to a cloned device and was excruciatingly short at less than eight seconds. For that, his core assumption there was that Andrea Winston was finalizing her plans to leave the island. Wisely, he had every airport on alert for the devious Legal Assistant.

"Lights? Geared up?" Six teams confirmed hand held flashlights for the darkened construction zone. All wore regulation gear and were armed to the hilt. Two officers would pay a visit to the small inhabited wing to pursue appropriate due diligence there, beginning with the manager. Duke nodded as that pair jogged off to discuss their needs with the man they could see standing inquisitively in the small lobby.

Opening his communications link, Duke initiated the final instructions for the more difficult task at hand. "Clear rooms with caution and stay in constant communication. Watch your step for loose flooring and whatever - or whoever - else might be in here."

Only one quarter of the hotel had really been completed and that small side was open prematurely for business to accept paying guests. Though for the life of him, Duke couldn't even hazard a guess as to why anyone might want to grace the frightening establishment. And it wasn't that the renovated left hand portion wasn't at least somewhat acceptable. It was that its much larger sisterly half was simply so raw and feral. Partially covered in white sheeting to prevent substantial stone dust and other contaminants from escaping, its innards were being re-worked from the ground up.

"What is that?" Duke grimaced as a rank, strange odor permeating that side of the roughly gated parking lot for the construction zone wafted by them on a stronger breeze. The plastic obviously couldn't hide every ill-surprise.

"Sewers." One of his men muttered with a slight cough. A fist soon followed to cover his nose more blatantly from the stench. "Place should be razed."

"Yes, it should." Gazing at the one story, long forbidding rectangle, Duke nodded in agreement as the plastic sheeting billowed and crinkled as if it had life. "Okay. Move out."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

There was no one to question or stop him as he entered through the disabled side exit door. Staffing was extremely light this late at night and he continued on at his leisure. Memorizing his path from that basement level, that same door remained option number one as his escape route once the job was completed, no matter its complexity.

He didn't pause at the foot of the stairwell. Taking steps two at a time, he only stopped to peer out the door on the first floor's landing knowing that he wouldn't need to go up past the second to locate the appropriate area of triage. In fact, he found what he was looking for on the first floor, but went up two additional flights for interests sake and to gain an understanding of layout for other options to escape. Hospital staff would essentially bring the injured to him if he timed his participation correctly. After that, he would need to move quickly without a moment's hesitation. On the third floor, he made a split second decision to enter the near empty hallway when he saw a partially opened supply closet. One pair of latex gloves, a blue surgical cap and a white surgical mask soon completed his faked ensemble.

Back inside the stairwell, he checked the reach for his blade and readied his weapon. It fit snugly in the rear of his borrowed pair of scrubs. After that, he jogged merrily back down to the first floor to join the small group waiting for the elevator to deliver the new patients to the large trauma room. His propitious arrival would lend a fifth set of hands as he sized up each person. During the quiet evening hours only one TAMC security guard was loitering by a lightly staffed nurses station. Three other patients were already being catered to in individual curtained off beds and he soon lost one nurse in his small contingent as a request for additional help rang out. He was pleased to see that another orderly and two nurses were similarly masked, but he was unaware of the true reason which was related to those staff opting out of receiving flu shots that year. His reasons were entirely felonious in nature.

Only his black eyes glittered in anticipation as the elevator pinged. He moved automatically forward with his small group, suddenly tight-lipped under the mask when the blonde tousled hair was not that of his desired target. He backed slightly away to blend in and to give room to the night attending physician, a Coast Guard medic, a corpsman and two TAMC nurses who had met the chopper on the roof. The Coast Guard medic was still transitioning his most urgent case over to the diligent TAMC staff. Confirmations of numbers which meant nothing to him flew back and forth in the room as the injured man was situated in a free exam area.

Even though he was now no longer moving and the oppressive headphones had finally been taken off, Danny felt as if he were still vibrating from the time spent in the Coast Guard Medevac. Things should have been better. Instead, they were only different as he was bombarded with excruciatingly bright overhead lights and new painful stimuli. One emotional struggle had nearly ended, but it wasn't quite yet over as more hands and faces appeared in his line of sight. Cold and stressed, he couldn't stop the occasional tremor which wracked his body.

"Where's my .. team?" He focused on a somewhat familiar face; more of an outline of a blurred orange-like uniform actually as they rapidly moved to the trauma area. Danny knew he was repeating himself, but even current memories were frighteningly hazy.

"You're doing great, Detective. Lieutenant Kelly ... Chin .. is up top on the helipad." The Coast Guard medic had taken over where Chin left off. One hand was on Danny's arm as the TAMC crew acquired his care, the first order of business once again a focus on his vitals. He'd calmed significantly on the flight with his friend's support. Shock and fluctuating vital signs were leaving him forgetful and continually unsettled though.

"I'm Mike, remember? Chin is escorting Al Tortorro down." The Coast Guard medic watched closely for understanding, unsure if the detective was retaining anything at that point even though the man desperately tried to latch onto his face.

"Mike." Danny's reply was uncomfortably delayed. It took an effort for him to remember Chin's conversation just as they had landed. They still had the criminal to guard .. to keep alive .. for the coming trial.

 _"We're at the hospital. You'll go down first, with Mike. Then Kono."_  Chin had been adamant about Danny remaining calm. _"Abrams and I need to stay with Tortorro. We'll be right behind you though. Got it?"_

"Yeah, Tortorro. Got ..it." Faintly annoyed with himself, Danny nodded into Mike's approving smile. He'd been told. He just couldn't keep up despite his best efforts. But then his shirt was being cut away, followed by removal of the pressure bandages which Steve had so carefully applied. It left him feeling much colder and even vulnerable as another shiver made him helplessly clench his fists.

"Hey. Doc." Danny groaned when pain flared instantly through his side and into his abdomen. It brought spontaneous tears to his eyes as the wound was deftly unpacked and probed to determine the extent of damage. More cold sweat dotted his furrowed brow as the probing continued yet he was unable to escape. The activity around him increased and Danny spasmodically flinched away from the overwhelming pressure.

Without warning another thick wall of pain stifled his body nearly from head to toe. On its heels came a lethargy that engulfed his whole being. As it flooded his senses, Danny lost his vision and then his hearing. Already compromised breathing altered on one final inhale utterly against his will. He gave out with a softly voiced moan just before all the hectic sounds around him faded at an alarming rate.

Silence and darkness enveloped him and he thought that he nearly sighed in relief.  _Better_. Thankful for the release, Danny floated painlessly for what seemed like one blessedly peaceful moment.  _It was all better._  He sighed then for certain until a sharp pressure agonizingly ripped through his breastbone.

"Detective! Danny!" A male voice was shouting at him only inches from his nose. Danny moaned in resentment while weakly trying to bat away whatever had attacked the center of his sternum. "Hey! Danny, none of that! Open your eyes!"

The hard relentless knuckled ache refused to dissipate and Danny moaned again as he struggled against the demand. "Come on back, Detective. Open your eyes!"

"Damn you." The curse was loud and in his ear. That combined with another rudely knuckled thumping rub to his breastbone finally brought his eyes blearily back open with a rush of emergency room noise. Voices were loud, calling out orders but one in particular was evidently personally furious with him.

Danny blinked in a vain attempt to clear his vision. "Mike?" He pushed the name out weakly as the medic's fury slowly dawned on him. He'd no idea what had just occurred and he blinked again as Mike's face changed rapidly from anger to fear and then finally, relief.

"Don't you do that again." Mike was undeniably ruffled. Something Danny was certain he'd not seen in the last few hours he'd known the man. Yet, he didn't know what he'd done to deserve the verbal tongue-lashing.

" 'kay." Danny murmured, squinting almost apologetically up at the affronted Coastie. "Sorry." He was surrounded by the TAMC medical team, all of whom had ratcheted up their level of concern for him as his vitals plummeted without warning.

"Yeah, well." Mike ran his hands through his hair, stopping to scrub it hard so it stood messily up on end. Standing by the head of the gurney, he made himself appear small so the TAMC staff could care for the ailing man. However, the Five-0 detective had just about scared the socks off him before he could leave him in good hands. He paused now as he listened to the improved hum of readings and expert jargon. With a sigh, he kept his hand on Danny's shoulder almost for the both of them. "Just .. don't do it again."

Still somewhat baffled, Danny ghosted out a soft smile of agreement before turning his head towards a new voice. "Almost done .. bleeding stopped a while ago. This was a very decent field dressing." The attending TAMC physician had recovered much faster than his Coastie peer. With his patient now coming to more stable terms with his traumatized body, he gently offered some new conversation. "Very well done. But I agree with Mike here, don't be doing that again on us. Alright?"

"Sure. Great." Danny chuffed a much too soft sarcastic whisper at that offhand compliment. He'd have to remember to tell Steve, or actually maybe he wouldn't. The thoughts of what he might say actually fled him when another probing investigation on the exit side of the wound wholly took his breath away. Worried once more, Mike was back instantly encouraging him to breathe through the painful ministrations.

"What?" Forcing his eyes to open on what he thought he heard through the buzz of chaos in his ears, Danny stared blankly up into Mike's face. "What .. but?" Danny blinked rapidly in surprise when he heard words like  _flush_ ,  _debride_  and possibly even ...  _surgery_.

"You're in good hands. Let them do their thing to help you out." Mike smiled kindly down at him but chose not to repeat what the attending physician was demanding after seeing the reddened and swollen skin. Sucking in a tendril of air, Danny shook his head as part of his plea when surgery was definitely being finalized.

"No. I'm fine .. not too bad." Danny nearly mimicked Kono's earlier comments while Mike blatantly rolled his eyes in mock aggravation. "Few .. meds." The faint words implying he'd be fine with plain medication didn't convince anyone though. Least of all the diligent medical staff.

"Sure you are; and you will be. Just let it happen, Danny." Mike dramatically sighed before shaking his head towards the ceiling. Whatever came next, the detective was at the TAMC medical team's very whim as blood was drawn from his arm and a nurse stepped away to schedule time in an operating room.

Near the foot of his gurney and just out of the way, Andrea Winston's gunman watched closely as Coastie medical gear was rapidly exchanged and the detective was subjected to a battery of blood tests, questions and what seemed to be a painful examination of a gunshot wound. Momentarily engrossed, he had been hanging on every proffered word, pained whistle of air and soothing response from the Coast Guard medic.

He absorbed Tortorro's name and inhaled knowledge regarding the existence of yet another Five-0 team member. Everything he could use was instantly filed away for his pending use. Then, the detective's unexpected dive into unconsciousness had created a flurry of interesting organized activity. Through it all, the gunman had watched, lingered and waited.

But he suddenly froze in place when a slim hand settled unexpectedly on his shoulder. "Come on, the second is coming down now." A younger nurse had taken his arm as she strode past and he willingly followed closely, daring to ask her a simple question as they waited by the elevator doors. He needed to be sure that he'd heard correctly.

"Just the two?" His voice was calm and nearly bored. "Two police officers?"  His eyes gleamed at the nurse's distracted yet extremely informative reply.

"No, we're getting three. Two police officers and a civilian. The Coast Guard retrieved them from some remote area after their small plane went down. We have two male and one female victim." She frowned, obviously not aware of the entire story and confused by at least two of her new patients' odd injuries. "It was a plane crash, but on top of that, both male patients have sustained gunshot wounds. What started as a slow night, certainly has changed." The nurse was friendly and yet not necessarily interested in anything more than what would happen when the next patient appeared for her able care.

Folding his hands in front, he bounced on his toes anxious now that Al Tortorro would in fact be presented to him on a silver platter. Despite knowing it in advance, he was still disappointed when the doors opened to reveal an Asian woman who was conscious and sitting slightly reclined on a gurney. Another doctor, whom he didn't know was a TAMC intern, and an older nurse, accompanied the patient who was in evident discomfort.

"Exam six and call Doctor Phillips in for consult." The intern was abrupt as he turned on the closest orderly to complete the latter half of his orders. He missed the dark fury in the eyes for his haste and other commands were spouted. Instead of acting, the gunman glanced down at the Asian woman first. Her hair was damp and clumped with blood on one side. A well-worn and stained white bandage covered what seemed to be a nasty gash to her temple and even with her eyes only half-opened, her face was pinched in pain.

"You better make that call. You know Harris. Always out to prove something." The nurse who had originally tapped his shoulder, bustled past him to comply with the arrogant intern before he evidently could harass his co-workers even more. On her way, she pointed to the wall phone and the computer. "Phillips is our on-call neurologist tonight. You'll find the emergency contact number on file."

He growled under his breath while eyeing the elevator which was already on its way back up to the roof-top pad for the third patient. His target was next and he needed to be ready. Feigning obedience, he strode rapidly over to the table top computer and made a show of tapping keys to bring up anything that appeared to be relevant. With his back to the group, he mocked the call to Phillips before striding back into his optimal position.

"Did you make the call?" It was the forceful doctor again, once more in his face inquiring about something he'd been told to do. He paused and waited, causing the overly focused man to repeat himself. "To Phillips .. did you call?" Narrowing his eyes at the annoying physician, he nodded once.

"Yes. I called him." His voice remained flat and he was thankful for the mask which hid the sneer lacing his lips. He had intended to kill anyone in authority holding a weapon, but this doctor might indeed wind up being another unfortunate casualty.

"Him? No. What's  _her_  ETA?" The intern was leaning over the female detective and carefully removing the bandage placed across her temple. He had just checked her pupil reaction again, yielding an unhappy hiss of pain from his patient. But he stopped long enough to look up queerly at the masked orderly. Dr. Agnes Phillips was an esteemed member of the TAMC community and most definitely female.

At first unsure of what to say, the gunman hesitated. It was something he disliked because he was by nature, very decisive but he'd become almost too involved and was staying too long. Narrowing his eyes, he sensed a dangerous line which was soon to be crossed.

"Yes. She." The correction to Phillips' gender as well as the estimated number he picked were both fair in his mind and he hoped it would put an end to the questions and demands. Stressing the first word, he had to keep the warning snarl from the tone of his answer. " _She_  will be here in fifteen minutes."

The measured look and subsequent approving grunt ended the discussion, as did the third and propitious clang of the elevator returning with its final and most important passenger.

Purposefully walking away as if he was expected to assist in settling the last patient, he could barely keep his fingers from their deadly itch. His hands, the gun which was making his skin sweat at the small of his back, as well as the small hidden knife by his ankle all were viable tools. The one he selected would wholly depend upon who .. _and what_  ... was presented to him.

When the doors slid open, Al Tortorro appeared much to the gunman's ultimate delight. His target was partially reclined, badly rumpled and clearly exhausted but wide-awake. He was very much  _alive_  and under guard by a well-armed Asian man and a formal looking Coast Guard officer. A quick glance to the Coastie's placard read 'Abrams' and their assertive flow forward from the elevator pushed the gunman at first back into the narrow corridor wall. Slightly off balance, he was required to give way as Tortorro was wheeled directly next to the female officer's partially curtained area.

But it was then that their eyes accidentally met and their mutual gaze held with a startling intensity. Tortorro's eyes widened in surprise and the gunman's crinkled around the edges just visible above the mask. Even masked or injured _like_  recognized  _like_  nearly instantly.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	15. Chapter 15

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

 

The attack was instantaneous, not at all what Tortorro anticipated, and he reacted without even thinking. He never heard the terrified shriek of the nurse who had been standing to his side. The killer didn't fire first at him, but at the armed Five-0 officer and then two of the Coast Guard men. The Asian officer went down hard clutching his upper thigh with a stunned shout. Near where Tortorro sat on a gurney, Abrams followed in a soundless heap without even having a chance to draw his own weapon. With an aggressive purpose, the masked orderly drove back anyone that might be a threat or cause him an issue before completing his original deed.

Wrists cuffed and now bleeding from where his IV had been nastily ripped out, Tortorro dove for the tiled floor fumbling for Abrams' gun. In less than a fraction of a second, he had forgotten about his injured arm and the severe ache to his damaged ribs. Using both hands, he yanked it from the Coastie's holster as shots continued to ricochet amongst screams in the trauma bay. He had seconds before the killer cleared a selfish escape route and then rounded back for him. On his knees and driven by a surge of adrenalin, Tortorro swung upwards while simultaneously thumbing off the handgun's safety.

Expecting to be face to face with the masked orderly, his sights wound up aimed directly at the female Five-0 officer's chest and his fisted hands wavered dangerously, before completely dropping. Small thin blade in hand, she too, had lurched off the gurney to stand unsteadily in the midst of the altercation. Behind her, the masked killer had his back turned as he exchanged frenetic fire with the Coast Guard corpsman who was partially hidden behind a stanchion and the only one left blocking his exit.

"Give me the gun." Hand out-stretched shakily, Kono fought the sensation of vertigo in her head.

Gritting his teeth in frustration and shaking his head to the negative, Tortorro had no time and she was in the way. Her breathlessly pained voice was slurred and her eyes unfocused, yet she demanded Tortorro give her the Coastie's weapon. He growled inaudibly under his breath and raised a querulous eyebrow at her next order. "Get ... behind me .. and give it."

"No, not likely." Slipping in his own blood as he tried to gain purchase on the floor, Tortorro snarled angrily as the Five-0 officer swayed weakly in place. "No. Not likely at all." She was barely on her own feet and torn between protecting her downed team-mates or the civilians who had scattered about in the room; even himself, and Tortorro wouldn't have it. He knew though that his brother's assassin would take no issue with shooting through her just to get to him.

"Get out of the way." Gaining his balance, this time he made it off one knee while spouting his own demands. "Get down before you get your fool head blown off!" Their argument took place as doctors and nurses vainly tried to protect helpless patients while gunfire popped and exploded around them all.

"Give it to me!" Over-taxed, Kono's voice was raspy. It changed almost in horror though when a solid crash sounded off to Tortorro's left hand side. "Chin!" She saw her downed cousin first, but then her wide eyes fell on the nearby gurney. "Danny!"

Taking a moment to look, it was Tortorro's turn to be stunned as the badly injured detective fought the Coast Guard medic who had literally flung himself protectively across his patient's body. The crash had been the sound of the gurney jolting roughly a few feet across the floor. Muffled words and the sounds of their struggle continued despite the ongoing fire-fight. The detective's goal seemed to be his fallen friend who failed at being able to draw his weapon for the volume of blood soaking through his pants to smear across the white tiled floor.

"No. Need to .. help." Barely able to speak, Danny fought against Mike's strength which was waning quickly for the man had been wounded himself. Struck in the shoulder, he denied the detective as much movement as he was physically able. The officer's reactive plan was decidedly going to end with a very poor result and the medic kept his entire weight over the flailing limbs. In spite of his best efforts though, Danny had still managed to tear out two IV's completely from his arms and dislodge the oxygen mask.

Ignoring the distressed complaints, Mike tried to stay low and keep the detective from doing more harm to himself as sporadic gunfire and screams reigned across the once respectable trauma room. He closed his eyes briefly against the deep ache in his shoulder and hung on. He had no intention of releasing the grip he had until the situation ended ... no matter when or how any solution was achieved.

A soft moan drew his attention and Mike rubbed his eyes into his clenched fist before blearily looking around. Behind him on the floor, Chin clutched his leg with both hands as he too, rocked in pain. Just beyond him, Abrams lay unconscious and unmoving. What Mike saw next had him shocked to his core, yet he remained completely helpless to do a single thing. "Oh no." He murmured quietly.

Kono had succeeded in doing what Danny continued to insist upon. Hunched and unsteady, she had one hand on a gurney for balance while the other fisted a small knife. She seemed confused about where to go first. On the floor in front of her, their arrested criminal painfully rocked on his knees. Even with both hands fisted for the hand-cuffs, he had managed to get Abram's weapon and he seemed to be aiming it at the injured Five-0 officer.

Confused, Mike frowned when he realized that the two seemed to be arguing, but the shooter was turning again and looking for his real target. His angered eyes slid over people and ruined equipment as he sought Tortorro. "Shit, shit, shit." Mike muttered into his arm as Danny continued to protest. No one could reach Abrams or intervene at all within the center of the trauma unit.

"Shit. Stay down. Danny. Stay down." Under the medic's body, Danny bucked again and almost won the battle. He felt Mike's hands slip for a moment and he gained enough leverage to get both legs off the side of the gurney before he was unceremoniously hauled back into place. "Stop .. I'm not going to let you .. get up." Mike hissed in his ear with his own pain evident in the cracked tone. Dismally, he realized the detective's original gunshot wound had begun to bleed and erratic breathing was now completely shattered.

They were entering a dangerous territory again and now certainly wasn't the time. Worried as the detective's pallor turned more ashen, Mike could only plead until the standoff came to an end. "Danny, stay still. You have to calm down."

"I  _have_  .. to get .. up." Danny had seen Chin fall though and he struggled anew as his friend moaned in pain. He sensed the rising fear and heard its proof but his body slowly began to fail as the medic maintained his hold. "Mike." Weakly gasping the medic's name, Danny fisted his uniform in turmoil. Besides Chin, he knew that he heard Kono's voice in the distance, followed by Tortorro's angry retorts. Everything was happening at once and he was utterly helpless.

"Kono." He tried to call for her and his voice suddenly failed him, too. Nearly spent, he finally sagged as the gunfire continued around him and yet, the Coast Guard medic persisted in his protective stance. Frustrated and now beyond exhausted, Danny coughed as his breath unexpectedly caught in his throat. Adrenalin had funneled his first automatic response, but his beleaguered body had used it up much too soon. Pain leaked into his senses again and as before, his breathing altered to leave him no choices. As he failed at drawing in a sufficient amount of air into his tired lungs, Danny merely closed his eyes to finally cease his fight.

"Damn it, Danny." Swearing softly under his breath, Mike felt the change and then watched as Danny's eyes suddenly rolled back in his head. All his struggles stopped at that point as his body, from head to toe, went entirely slack. Using one hand, Mike locked his jaw as he dared to reach for the oxygen mask which had fallen to the floor. With all his determination and forcing his wounded arm to work, Mike left Danny completely to scurry the few feet necessary. His fingers curled successfully around the mask and he was back in place resolutely over Danny's body an instant later.

"Good, good, good." He muttered repetitively as he got one small thing accomplished and hung his head to rest. He had achieved one small feat which would at least begin forcing oxygen into Danny's lungs.

"Hey." The soft word was almost a shout. It came from the floor and Mike partially turned searching for the voice. "Hey! Here." With distinct relief, he caught the eye of the TAMC physician who had taken temporary refuge near a supply cabinet. There was no doubt the doctor was angry. Relying on hand signals, he indicated to Mike that he intended to at least get over to where Chin was lying. Glancing towards where the shooter was, Mike gave an approving signal for the doctor to try.

Bravely then, he edged along the floor towards Chin to hastily apply a desperately needed tourniquet. Seconds later, he was dragging the injured Five-0 officer to a safer corner in the room.

"What the hell happened." Gritting his teeth against the pain, Chin tightly clawed at the wound in his thigh. Things had changed so quickly, he still wasn't sure what had happened or who was even shooting. All he knew was that the wound was bad as blood pulsed through his own fingers. The TAMC attending hadn't said a word as he shimmied over and below what he hoped was the line of fire. But now, he tried to explain as he hastily finished applying the tourniquet.

"It's the damned .. orderly. I didn't think I recognized him." The physician was upset as he shook his head in self-retribution. "I wasn't sure .. but this?" Narrowing his eyes, he slammed his mouth shut before grabbing Chin under his arms. "Help me out here .. can you move at all?"

"Yeah." With that, Chin pushed off using the heel of his opposite foot while the doctor began dragging him determinedly to a far corner.

"He's okay." Though Danny wasn't conscious, Mike heaved a broken sigh before whispering into his ear. "Chin's okay, Danny. Doc's got him .. he's okay."

On the other side of the room, Tortorro was becoming desperate as Kono tried to focus her bleary gaze. She was concussed but wasn't going to listen to him, let alone give an inch. Using both hands together, he tried anyway by waggling the gun to enforce his point.

"Get down." He hissed it angrily now. He was done with the blood bath and the female Five-0 officer who remained almost belligerently in the way. Behind her, the killer seemed satisfied and he was moving again. Looking and searching for that one person, and Tortorro's time was officially up.

"Damn it, give me the gun!" Kono knew it, too. She sensed the subtle changes in the atmosphere, but there was little she could do as Tortorro glared defiantly back at her.

"No." He flatly refused and he didn't have time to worry about the other men or anything else. Tight-lipped in anger, Tortorro's attention focused on the killer and the young woman who remained steadfast. The killer was moving quickly with a clear purpose. Shots were becoming scarily sporadic as an alarm was finally triggered in the background. Screams were even lessening as frightened moans rang louder around them and medical staff bravely fought for the right to protect patients and now, their own wounded.

"Down. Move .. get out of my way." He was breathless from anxiety as he clambered awkwardly to his feet. Tortorro reached her side on a sloppy lurch, only to intentionally slam himself into her shoulder to knock her sideways. The move put him now directly in the line of fire just as the killer swung around, eyes landing firmly on his true objective.

"There you are." Above the surgical mask, the dark eyes brightened maliciously when he found Tortorro cleanly out in the open. He ignored the injured woman so near to collapsing just behind the man he had been paid so well to remove from the face of the earth. He acknowledged, but also chose to ignore, the doctor who was desperately dragging an Asian officer to supposed safety.

Focused on Tortorro, his tone was sarcastic and dangerous, ending with a short chuckle as he took deliberate aim. His amusement only increased as Tortorro did the same while handcuffed.

There was nowhere to go, but Tortorro wasn't necessarily thinking of his own safety by then as the killer offered him a few final words. "Your brother says hello ... and good-bye. I believe that would be ...  _Aloha_. How ... beautifully convenient."

"No, no!" Completely off balance and slightly behind Tortorro, Kono grabbed for his arm and then his shoulder in a vain attempt to prevent the inevitable. She was almost shouting over the killer's voice and Tortorro was already firing his weapon. He roughly pushed her aside before a wild bullet could find purchase in her own body.

"Get down!" His command was barely audible through an odd  _oomph_  of sound. After which, he staggered backwards as he continued to return fire, blocking her even more with a rock hard sense of purpose as another spat of gunfire echoed around them.

"Down!" She heard Tortorro that one final time as he stayed immovable in his defiance and used Abrams' weapon without hesitation. He fired repeatedly until he was out of bullets and then she was falling with him. Staggering back one step, Kono caught him as he sagged to his knees just as the gunman fled. Yet Kono barely noticed.

"Al! Al? No!" Moving more slowly than she wanted, Kono's sluggish responses had her hands applying firm pressure to the criminal's chest. He was stiff from pain and trembling under her fingers as a soft moan finally escaped his lips with an alarming amount of blood-laden bubbles.

"No. No. Come on, Al. Why did you do that? What were you thinking?" A tight sob got stuck in her throat as the front of his previously ruined dress shirt became a wetly dark crimson. His eyes fluttered once, to only fully close in a face that was suddenly much too lax.

Rocking her aching head into her bicep while she stiff-armed pressure into the accountant's chest, Kono closed her eyes and focused on staying upright. He had intentionally blocked her every effort. Unable to do a thing about the terrible situation, she stayed where she was as the masked orderly disappeared without contest.

"I need help here." Kono's voice brokenly rang out along with a few others who also now demanded aid as an eery quiet fell on the trauma bay. In her periphery, Danny was sprawled on the gurney with the Coast Guard medic slumped lightly over him as more staff began to rush in. Security swarmed in earnest through the chaos and then through the stairwell door which the shooter had used. Orders were shouted continually and Kono nearly cried in relief when she realized that the TAMC attending had already rescued her cousin and he was being lifted to a gurney.

But she still had no help and under her own stained and trembling hands, Al Totorro stopped moving.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	16. Chapter 16

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

 

Ripping off the surgical mask and latex gloves, he left them trailed behind as he took the stairs down in a graceless, sloppy stumble. He was positive that he'd killed Tortorro, but in doing so, he'd been hit by a few fairly well-aimed shots. He would celebrate later once the second half of his mission was completed: getting away cleanly. At least as cleanly as he could as his own list of woes began to increase with each heavily scuffed and tripped footstep. Creased in the temple, blood was smearing his cheek and descending closer to his eyebrow, but a hasty swipe using the back of his hand momentarily cured that problem.

What he left in his wake was far from over and he could sense the arrival of fresh pursuers as he galloped along with a one-sided limp. He was out of bullets too, yet retained his weapon with a staunch purpose because of the stache of ammunition waiting idle in his car. Just shy of the bottom landing though, he mis-stepped badly with his left foot. One handed, he grabbed for the railing and slipped again only to bang his left hip and fall as his leg collapsed under him. A sharp pang slammed through his lower back and an answering sickly ache tore up through a shoulder twisted and hyper-extended out of its socket by his own weight. His hiss was at first full of anger at his own clumsiness, until the stabbing heat throttled a very real groan from deep within his lungs.

Almost at the bottom of the stairwell, he stopped entirely against his own will to lean against the wall and suck in a tentative partial breath of air. He thought the pain would lessen, instead it grabbed him even more harshly. It was then that he felt the dampness spreading across the lower portion of his stolen scrubs where another of Tortorro's bullets had struck him. Using the surge of anger to channel action, he was off again. But as he pushed himself violently back up and towards the broken emergency exit door, he left behind blurred streaks of blood on the stairs, railing and wall.

He hit the door with both hands, stumbling over the shallow lintel only to fall again. This time, it was completely onto his hands and knees with an earth-shattering slap of skin to concrete. He bruised his knuckles where the gun remained firmly fisted in a hand that was stained with a sweaty red tinge. Behind him, he could hear the incessant squeal of the alarm now only slightly muffled. The sound resonated in his ear drums and it gave him the final reason to keep moving.

With his mission accomplished there was still time and he could .. _no, he would_  ... get away. Forcing himself to rise to his feet, he swayed weakly in place before aiming himself towards his parked car. A small smile crept across his lips as he stumbled and gained an awkward speed; it was so close and he would in fact, win.

Entirely focused on his goal though, he never saw the looming, aggressive force bearing down on him from the side.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Upon hopping into his truck at the airport, Steve's rudely private, wide-mouthed yawn stopped mid-way to end on a startled strangled inhale. He'd landed eight minutes early and had instantly gone to his pickup truck leaving any post flight check to the HPD mechanic. He paused as he pushed the key home into the ignition: his only goal now was Tripler Army Medical Center.

 _Something was wrong._  He'd had an equally rude mental itch that refused to leave and it settled gnawingly at the base of his skull to prickle the fine hair at the nape of his neck. To settle his nerves after revving the engine, he called Chin's cell phone but that only made matters worse when it rang numerous times to simply fall into voicemail. Steve disengaged the call without leaving a message, now wondering if the stirrings he felt were a valid premonition.

 _Something felt wrong_  and distracted by the sensation, he grimaced unhappily. Despite Andrea Winston's escape, no one knew anything and he had no real reason to believe Tortorro - or the rest of his team - would be in any immediate danger that very night. And especially, at the hospital. Chastising himself, Steve had hesitated briefly before thumbing on his truck's strobe lights, using the siren manually to dodge through stop signs and traffic intersections to ease his mind. It had felt right, but his spontaneous actions forced his foot to hit the accelerator just a bit more heavily than he should have and he had to brake diligently as he lurched over speed bumps as he entered the TAMC parking lot.

Scarcely ten minutes after breaking off his yawn, Steve was grappling for his weapon and crouching low as an odd shape lay hunched on a dimly lit portion of TAMC sidewalk located to the far side of the hospital's parking lot. Unconsciously, his eyes flicked to the building and then back to the shape. Something was definitely wrong and he imagined that he could hear an alarm faintly in the distance. Heaving a worried sigh, Steve's first thought guessed it to be a dog or some other misguided nocturnal animal until it unfolded itself to rise unsteadily where it took the hunched form of a man.

Steve watched a millisecond before he began to automatically move. The man reeled unsteadily in place before lurching into a rapid, drunken lope across the rear section of thickly shadowed concrete and by other parked cars. He was out-of-place and decidedly wrong ... very wrong. It was all more than enough for Steve's dire feeling to quadruple and without thinking, it spurred him forward on a course that would intercept the blackened and silhouetted wraith. It was then he chose to not use his weapon.

Besides the obvious nature of the man's injuries, it was easy to understand his most basic objective - reaching the small ordinary car parked so innocently in the last empty row. There was no need to provide a warning of any kind, and Steve cut him off with a simplistic move which sent them both scuttling to the hard pavement. Rolling to his feet in a smooth offensive crouch, Steve barely waited for a retaliation that wouldn't come.

His adversary had never had a chance and it was over just as the side emergency exit door burst open again with five armed security personnel in pursuit of the killer that had left their trauma area in such a terrible state of disarray. They reached Steve en masse just as he removed the empty revolver and found the knife hidden beneath the green material of the orderly's scrubs. Regardless of the man's current ruined state, zip ties followed around his wrists as a standard precaution.

"Who the hell are you?" Steve growled out under his breath, coming up empty in a search for a wallet or for any type of identification. The hospital scrubs were most noticeably not part and parcel to the man himself.

"Who are  _you_?" The last word was dangerously stressed and Steve eyed the weapons which were now aimed his way as the five men ranged around him. His clothing, which so plainly spelled an interesting blend of military and formal law enforcement, had them slightly baffled. They warily absorbed his attire and aggressive stance which weren't wholly anticipated in their parking lot in the middle of the night, regardless of what had just occurred inside. Everyone was on edge and itchy for more trouble as they gauged reactions and the basic right for each to be there.

Thumbing the badge near his belt, Steve introduced himself, troubled by each person's level of true professional distress which permeated the air. "McGarrett." He cocked his jaw hard to the right while studying the individual who had just addressed him. "Commander McGarrett. Five-0" There was immediate recognition of his name and then a definitive reaction to Five-0. Slowly, weapons were dropped in unison and Steve more easily affirmed his reason for his timely arrival.

"My team was just brought in with a prisoner. They were injured in a murder attempt; plane crash caused by ground fire." Steve paused intentionally, knowing that the grievously wounded man beneath his feet had been duly employed to finish the task. He didn't need to say that he had sensed the danger and acted on a natural intuition to negate a very real threat.

"Your timing's almost perfect." The mental itch progressed to a keening overwhelming knell which only worsened at the team leader's stressful preamble.  _Almost perfect_  explained the tide of tension screaming through the five persons standing in front of him.

"We'll take care of this one. You had better get in there, sir."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Steve ran the way the TAMC security detail had come from which was so apparently the same way the last mercenary had traveled. He registered the darkly stained concrete just outside the emergency exit and then the smeared stains. Each one told a threatening story as he progressed upwards. Their murky redness was thick at the bottom of the stairwell, only to lighten and thin out as if painted by an artist as he took each tread to the first floor.

"Oh my god." His softly muttered words were lost to himself as he entered the trauma room and then was unable to move due to the sheer volume of people. Sitting on the floor with Tortorro's head in her lap, Kono was reflexively rocking in place as two TAMC doctors fought to so obviously save the criminal's life. Steve could only watch as the man was lifted from his youngest team member and then whisked away on a gurney as a nurse hastily, yet methodically, pushed air into his lungs.

Kono rocked in place at the oddity of the change. Her lap suddenly felt empty without Tortorro's dead weight. "Dead." She whispered the perfect word to herself, only seeing her hands now which were unrecognizable for the blood coating them. Devoid of feeling, she mentally tried to berate herself for caring because she didn't know why she should; he was just a job and not a very nice one at that. Then again, she didn't know why Tortorro had done what he'd done. It felt sneakily like  _protection_  and the concept nauseated her.

"He's a criminal .. a damned killer." Kono was practically whispering to herself as she rocked in place and stared blindly at her fingers wondering if she had just witnessed the man's death. "Why did he do this?" Lost in a deafening fog, she never heard Steve the first, nor the second time he called her name.

"Kono." Steve gained space and took it to reach her side. "Kono?" She sat there looking lost and child-liked muttering something under her breath, but for all intents, not really moving. Only her fingers twitched every so often. He wanted to wipe the blood off them, but there was nothing available. He was only selfishly relieved to realize none of it was hers.

"Come on. Let's go." It was evident that she wasn't going to move, so Steve simply picked her up when she didn't answer him. Anxiety-ridden and feeling like an unwanted island in the midst of a storm, Steve tried to find help, count heads, and at least get a handle on the rest of his team. Chin was nowhere to be seen and his mouth adopted a stern, worried line made worse when Kono seemed to sink into his shoulder. She felt even lighter than she usually appeared as small tremors coursed through her shocked system.

A few frightened patients were being attended to by nurses, and Steve finally spotted a Coast Guard uniform in a far corner. As the sea of people parted briefly, he recognized the medic, Mike. Even holding Kono, Steve recognized the stance of injury yet the medic was part of a team agonizing over someone on another gurney. As a nurse moved aside, it was then that Steve thought he saw a glimmer of dirty blonde hair and his stomach plummeted. Every innate reason pointed to the fact that the Coast Guard medic would not leave his original patient.

"Damn it." His soft curse had Kono clutching his shoulder as her own anxiety escalated into a moaned dry gag. "Easy .. hold on." Whispering inanely, Steve whirled slightly in place, only to quietly apologize again at the spasmodic hold she'd adopted. He had moved too quickly and caused added physical distress while looking for another pair of skilled hands.

"Steve. He was waiting for us. He was so fast ... he took down Chin .. so fast." Glancing down to the top of Kono's head, Steve grimaced at the awed tone of the near-shattered words. There was no real consolation in that she seemed to be coming back to the present. Her eyes were wedged shut and she made no effort to move as he cradled her with ease. "He looked ... like an orderly .. but Al knew .. he  _knew_."

"We got him outside, Kono. He didn't get away." Oddly, or maybe not so much so, his soft explanation momentarily calmed her mental state. The reaction was genuinely palpable and Steve almost grinned if not for the ongoing chaos around them. But he still didn't dare ask how badly Chin had been injured or even if she knew how Danny might be doing. In her own iffy state, it was likely that Kono didn't even know for that matter.

"I'll find out about Chin." Steve quietly promised. Over her head, he did dare to glance towards the team focused on his partner. He could see Danny clearly now which both helped but hindered at the same time. "I'll check on Danny and then let you know. Just rest, Kono."

"Mike .. he protected Danny. I saw .. him .. Danny tried to get up .. he tried to help.. Chin. But Mike .. he was wounded and still .. he kept Danny safe." Refusing to heed his advice, Kono insisted on talking. There were tears in her voice as she explained bits of what she had seen. Surprised by the stammered story, Steve scowled more deeply as he glanced towards the injured medic and then stared much more closely at the team working around Danny.

Of course his partner would want to help; he would virtually demand to get involved. Injured and already weakened though, Steve's concern mounted with each of Kono's words.

"Chin. The doctor ... helped Chin." Her voice was hardly above a murmur as she tried to share the little she recalled. "Then .. Al ... but there was so ... much blood."

"Alright." Frowning almost in annoyance at the use of the criminal's first name, Steve gently shifted her in his arms. There was a great deal more to the story but it wasn't the time as he felt her body begin to give out in earnest. She was sick, exhausted and experiencing a full-fledged adrenalin dump.

"Tell me later, Kono. Just rest until I can get you some help here." Soothing her quietly, he assertively intercepted a nurse who then appropriated a doctor. "Get me someone. Now."

At first taken aback by the bluntness, the nurse nearly ignored him until she saw who was in his arms. Her reaction proved that she'd forgotten about the female officer entirely. Her resultant quick nod was apologetic and all business as she demanded immediate attention. A gurney finally appeared as if by magic, with two additional nurses and a doctor who had recently arrived to lend a hand.

It was only then that Steve released Kono to their care. Wanting to be three places at once, he paced uncomfortably close by, forced to an idle status as the doctor checked Kono's beleaguered vitals and strained system. "When is Doctor Phillips getting here? Or did she arrive already?" The doctor asked over his shoulder while gently pushing Kono's hair away from the deep bruising on her temple. She was pale and shaking as the worst of her concussive symptoms came back with a vengeance. "We need Phillips here and I want this young lady scheduled for a CT scan ... STAT. Wasn't Phillips paged already in fact? Why isn't she here yet?"

"Oh no." Stunned, the nurse gaped at him as a slow realization dawned. " _He_  called .. at least  _he_  said that he called. He didn't .. he didn't contact her!" The communication between the two medical professionals was almost a private sharing of motions, mixed emotional reactions and serious activity. It was then that Steve understood that ' _he_ ' was the killer masquerading as an orderly. The nurse left in a rush while the doctor cursed under his breath about the never-ending subterfuge. Barely a minute later, the nurse had returned after having made the now very urgent call, herself.

"Doctor Phillips will be here in less than ten minutes. We can take her for a CT scan now .. right now." Ruffled, the nurse briefly explained what had happened to Steve who dismally closed his eyes as he absorbed more of the worrisome news.

"Doctor Agnes Phillips is our chief neurologist and our medical intern, Doctor Oliver, wanted her to check your officer due to the severity of the concussion. I should have known." The nurse chuffed a tearful retort for herself in remembrance. " _He_  though she was a man ... everyone here knows Doctor Phillips. How could we miss this so badly?"

"Neurologist?" Glancing with concern to where Kono lay so quietly, Steve could only shake his head. The entire mission had been a terrible challenge from the start; fraught with unforeseen surprises for the depth of Angel Tortorro's desire for retribution and far-reaching, powerful capabilities. A trap at TAMC of all places was something they had all completely missed and as far as Steve was concerned, that stunning omission was on him and the rest of the authorities in the know.

"My team? I will need an ongoing status on each of them." Demanding a more encompassing change to the subject, Steve gently took the nurse's arm to gain her attention. "That includes from this Doctor Phillips when she arrives, and then about Lieutenant Kelly." With Kono soon to get the care needed, he gestured widely across the room when the nurse didn't respond. "I'm looking for Lieutenant Kelly. Where is he? How badly was he injured?"

"Yes." She hesitated to gather her thoughts and fight off a sudden urge to cry. Two of her doctors had been wounded in the cross-fire, and a rumor was already circulating that an orderly had been murdered outside to allow the killer better access to the hospital.

"Yes." She palmed her eyes and then had blink back swirls of moist sparkling lights. The TAMC attending had helped the Asian officer .. Lieutenant Kelly .. who was now in surgery and she only had to find the words before her ability to speak completely seized. Her eyes searched and then fell on the distant gurney where Detective Williams was lying under a sea of helpful hands. The detective, too, had exacerbated his original gunshot wound with his frenetic movements.

"And?" Steve understood that every single person had been emotionally shell-shocked, but her much too brief acknowledgement rankled his own already finally honed dire feelings. Anxious and approaching another fine edge, Steve barely managed to keep his voice reasonable for her sake. "Yes. What? Exactly .. what?"

"Lieutenant Kelly was wounded, as was Lieutenant Abrams, their Coast Guard Ensign and of course, their medic. The shooter went after them first; anyone holding a weapon and appearing to be a threat. After that, two of our doctors were also wounded, one nurse and two orderlies." The list was staggering and testament to the influx of medical staff swarming the room. Firmly calling herself back to check as tears once more threatened and the Five-0 Commander stiffened in agitation, the nurse squared her shoulders to provide a much more succinct update related to the two men with whom he was most concerned about.

"Yes, that's what I've noted so far. He was wounded in the upper thigh and was rushed into emergency surgery. Lieutenant Kelly, that is." The nurse's explanation was met with an agitated volume of utter silence, which only gave her time to remember Tortorro and she glanced with concern towards Kono.

"And your prisoner. He was obviously the true target; the shooter was only biding his time to get to him." She didn't know more because it was too soon. Steve, of course, understood as he watched her return to Kono who was already fitted with an oxygen mask and a line for intravenous for desperately needed fluids.

With help for Kono finally secured and a bit more knowledge, as unsettling as it all was, Steve virtually jogged through the now thinning mass of medical staff to reach Danny's side. "Mike. How's Danny?" Steve grasped the medic's good shoulder as the man stood painfully hunched over. Heat leaked off his body and he was breathing heavily from both pain, stress, and an anxious concern for his patient.

"He promised me that he wouldn't do that again. He promised!" Literally turning on Steve as adrenalin continued to keep him firmly planted at Danny's side, Mike pushed hard against Steve's chest by grabbing a fistful of his tac-vest. The purely reactive shove and frustrated shake were both hard enough to send Steve back a half-step.

"What's going on? How is he?" Steve was clueless as to what the medic was referring to until he offered a further explanation which did little to improve Steve's confidence level. The Coastie was a trained professional and injured or not, his emotions were far from being well in check.

"We just got him back. Barely." It explained the medic's mood, but the unexpected tirade caught Steve off guard.

"What do you mean?" That same troubled trill cascaded down to the very pit of his stomach as Steve asked for confirmation. "What do you meant that you just got him back?"

Pushing past the distraught medic without waiting for an answer, he was stunned by Danny's ashen pallor which clearly communicated how close they'd come to losing him. Stripped down and covered up to his waist by a thin sheet, both arms were bruised and bleeding where his intravenous ports had been forcibly torn out. One nurse was diligently cleaning those tears, while another inserted a new line for fluids on a barely clean piece of skin. The smear of fresh blood only added to that hastily being stemmed from the gunshot wound.

"What happened?" Baffled by what he was seeing, Steve didn't realize how much Danny had tried to get involved once the killer had revealed himself. "What did he do? Mike?" Turning in askance towards the medic, the real import of Kono's stammered fears finally made more sense.

Danny had very literally tried to get up and Mike, though injured too, had prevented it.

"Stubborn, obstinate fool." There was no real heat to his reply, just an exhausted acceptance by that point. But holding his wounded arm across his chest to ease the ache in his shoulder, Mike was standing off kilter as he met Steve's face. It was clear to see that his own energy reserves were coming down now at a startling speed. Shirking off Steve's hand as he wavered unsteadily, Mike managed a painful shrug instead.

"He thought he'd help and he reopened the wound. Then his damned vitals went off the charts ... totally in the wrong direction." The disgusted chuffed sound easily communicated how determined Danny had originally been once the shooting had started. And knowing his partner so very well, Steve could guess the struggle that Danny had thrown at the medic.

"He wanted to help." Astounded, but also exasperated as he watched the never-ending volume of activity around the injured detective, Mike could only repeat himself as he tried to continue to lend a helping hand. His irritability only increased though when he was gently moved aside by one of the nurses. "He thought he'd help."

"Yeah. He would." Steve's only reply was equally dour but accepting. In fact, he likely would have done the same thing if the tables were turned for the ingrained training and natural sense of duty which were always overwhelmingly strong. Especially if any single one of their team was threatened and in this case, two had been distinctly in the line of fire.

"Danny would definitely do that. It's not your fault, Mike." Steve rubbed his hand uselessly over his face, blandly recognizing the cold sheen of sweat that came away on his fingers. He absorbed every word from the critically low blood pressure and then the dopamine being pushed to bring it back up. He moved on to the reports of a much too rapid and shallow respiration. Danny was truly in trouble now and the struggle to stabilize him continued in earnest. Dehydration, stress and blood loss pushed him further into hypovolemic shock.

Steve knew better than to ask, though he was desperate to get a sign or the smallest hint of hope. Something kindly said or thrown his way as a bone from any of the steady serious faces working on his partner. Instead, Steve was forced to back up along with Mike as the pace escalated.

"He wanted to help .. he thought he could help." Mike's continued short recap of that overly repetitive fact had a concerned doctor glancing up from the task at hand.

The medic was demonstrating the precise flaw he so complained about in the critically ill detective. This time though the monotonous repetition was telling. Before anyone could point that out or react faster, it was Steve who caught Mike just as he staggered one last time.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	17. Chapter 17

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

 

He was floating and it wasn't entirely pleasant. He would have expected it to be a happy feeling, but without the ability to find purchase .. to even think clearly ... no, it wasn't an entirely pleasant experience. Besides that very palpable discomfort, there was also a constant hum. Or more, it was a deep vibration of sound. That at least was more agreeable even though he couldn't define precisely what it was. His larger issue though soon became his continued inability to focus more strongly on anything, including the calmer drone which settled deeply in his bones. The hum was there, he knew it without doubt. However, he couldn't control it or find the energy to bring it closer and so, he became afraid of losing it.

Danny shuddered involuntarily when it receded so far away that he thought it was in fact, gone. Floating in a near soundless void increased his unease and meant that he'd been entirely wrong about the deep tonal vibration's constancy after all. A spark of fear kindled until he realized that only the timbre had changed and the hum was returning even stronger than before. He blindly accepted the brief threat of the lull as the hum remained and then soon forgot it even happened.

"How is he?" Steve looked up from between his fingers to find Sergeant Duke Lukela straddling the doorway. "I just saw Chin and Kono. It was a real mess in here, Steve." The older police officer was more than sympathetic by what had occurred over the last many hours.

"Debacle comes to mind." Steve snorted softly as he rose to greet the man. "And no, Danny's not good right now." Actually, Steve had visited each of his other team members earlier in the hour. Chin had fallen asleep with an unceremonious apology and Kono had been loathe to do anything more than lay silently in her darkened room. He had then followed up on the injured Coast Guardsmen, especially Mike who was happily doing better than expected.

Now, Steve had been filling Danny in on Chin and Kono's health even as he lay in a fevered state. "He hasn't moved in hours; not a single inch. Nothing." Steve murmured softly.

The fact was disconcerting and so  _not Danny_ , that Duke didn't need to ask about anything else. From where he stood, he could see the ongoing drips to push fluids and medications which were all still desperately in play to stabilize a badly stressed system. Chin Ho had survived emergency surgery to repair a torn artery and was resting a few doors down in the intensive care unit. His cousin, Kono, was technically faring better in terms of her own injuries, but that was only based upon common medical lingo. Housed in a quiet private room and pale as migraines and nausea plagued her, she was peevish and sick as she recovered from a severe concussion and an infection acquired from her injured arm.

Walking closer, Duke winced while measuring Danny's complexion. Pale and with lips still tinged a light blue, he could literally hear the still too rapid and erratic sequence of breaths under the oxygen mask. Duke obviously wasn't a doctor, but after years of experience in the field, he knew that Danny's skin would still be cold and clammy; all of which were testament to the shock his body was attempting to recover from. The infection and fever were simply two more insults to contend with.

"He got through surgery, Steve. That was the hardest part." Duke tried to balance what he was seeing, yet failed miserably. A number of IV's had been strung to push fluids, blood, antibiotics and medication. His same field experience provided other basic knowledge and he roughly knew the numbers and what they meant when he looked at each machine. Danny's O2 sats were low, his respiration was high, his heart rate rapid, and yet his blood pressure was much too low. Heaving a sigh as he took a half step back, Duke agreed that 'debacle' was an excellent descriptive word.

"We'll know for sure in another twenty-four hours." Steve's monotone response coincided with a nurse's arrival. She came in at least every hour wheeling her traveling computerized medical chart, if not sooner, to confirm readings or check whatever was flowing into her patient's body. Her expressionless face matched how Steve felt only on the outside and she was gone only seconds later after taking notes which were dutifully input into Danny's online records.

Inside though, Steve was in turmoil as he hesitated to contact Danny's ex-wife who was vacationing with their daughter on the mainland. He needed to make that call, but the concept brought a terrible foreboding which he was fighting tooth and nail. Mentally, Steve promised to call later ...  _later_  when something more happened .. be that good or even bad. But no, not yet.

"Duke, I'll come with you for the rest of the day." He spoke without looking at the sergeant. Tearing himself away would be difficult, but working with HPD and helping Duke locate Trish Pratt would be a justifiable way to spend that time. It gave him a real goal and provided a valid excuse. He could do that and it would make sense.

"I'll join you. We can talk on the way back to the precinct and come up with a game plan." With a final glance towards Danny, Steve attempted to move past Duke. However, he was stopped by a rather smug smile as the man remained rooted at the foot of Danny's hospital bed.

"No. Why?" Duke asked, never once taking his eyes from Steve's confused expression. It was a loaded question and Steve cocked his head quizzically at the not so humble tone.

"Pratt's wife. It stands to reason that our only lead is now dead. She's still out there, though .. somewhere." The shooter whom Andrea Winston had sent to finish the job had died on the operating room table. Evidence in his car indicated that he had possibly been the one and only link to the missing lawyer's wife. With no leads, Winston was long gone, too. But Steve's voice trailed off as Duke's smile deepened and he bore an air of great personal satisfaction.

"What are you telling me, Duke? You found her?" A thin smile finally tugged at Steve's mouth. The entire posture Duke had adopted was one of utter success. "You did, didn't you. Is she alive?"

Completely pleased with himself, the older officer shrugged nonchalantly. Not only wishing to check on Five-0's status, he also had come to personally bring Steve up-to-speed. "I didn't want to bother you yet with all that you've been dealing with here; especially since this one thing ended favorably. But after CSU evaluated call records, text messages and whatever trail they could piece together, we narrowed the area to something very reasonable. We were lucky too to some extent, but we did find her very much alive .. not so very well, but definitely alive."

It certainly wasn't the last responsibility to contend with, but Trish Pratt's rescue was a significant load he'd been relieved of and Duke Lukela had every right to be proud of that fact. Concern would still run rampant once Andrea Winston realized her second failure point. But it was a definite win for the good guys and they were learning quickly how deep the Tortorro animosity and deception could reach.

"That's great news." With a sense of relief bigger than he'd thought, Steve warmly complimented him. "It has to be the best news yet. Pratt must be thrilled."

"He is .. they both are. She's a bit worse for wear and will be staying at Queen's Medical for a day or two. But overall, she'll make a complete recovery." Duke added. He and his team had found her at the construction site. Deep in the bowels of the renovation amongst scaffolding, pallets of lumber and dry wall, Trish Pratt had been trapped behind one closed door to a makeshift windowless, storage room. In actuality, her prison would one day be a small bathroom to a single hotel room. But upon finding her tied tightly to a chair with no hope of escape, it was merely a small prison.

"The FBI has refined their detail here to two particular representatives; they are guarding Tortorro's room as if it were Fort Knox. As can we, if you think it's warranted to add more uniforms for security?" Duke was referring now to their portion of the mission. It was a legitimate question even though the FBI was resuming complete accountability for Al Tortorro's safety going forward. If he was ever cleared to be moved, the FBI was already discussing other hospitals or a safe house with a small contingent of dedicated medical staff. "Regardless of what they do or what you decide, I assume we are maintaining the same plan of action?"

Al Tortorro had made it through his own emergency surgery, but now lay in a coma after being placed on life support. HPD and Five-0 had discussed avowing the man's death even from back in the jungle; just after the plane had been brought down by ground fire. They had another opportunity now to either delay or even mitigate the truth from leaking out until a more opportune time. Continually declaring his death was a basic plan to give them all breathing room and Al Tortorro a better chance of making it to trial.

"Yeah." Steve nodded, preferring to go the original route. "We stick to the plan for now and add our own people here to offer backup support. If the FBI wants to do anything differently, then they can deal with the fallout themselves."

"So, I assume you're going to stay here for a few more hours?" Duke asked. He had wandered a bit closer to the bed, uncomfortably taking in the machines, leads and then, the various medications being pumped into his friend. Behind him, Steve didn't answer. Instead, Duke could feel the anxiety being broadcast as Steve began a short agitated pacing. He sighed and shook his head at the volume of trouble the Tortorro issue had caused until he noticed a small change.

"Steve." At first drawn to the slight twitch of Danny's fingers, Duke stared full into his face. His smile was firmly back in place when he realized that he was being watched. Perhaps not very clearly or with much understanding, but Danny's eyes were indeed open. "Steve, he's awake."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

The ongoing conversation near where Danny lay was the reason for the sonorous hum and its persistence helped build the tenuous thread needed to peel his eyes open. However after that monumental effort, he remained out of sorts and unable to truly focus on the two blurry images hanging so closely over his head. He didn't understand that the hum was really a translation of speech. Vision was a colorless merging of black and white; dark and light. Words evaded him, as did the ability to think and come up with what he thought he was seeing.

With no ability or compulsion to do more, he stared upwards and tried to absorb the soothing hum. It ebbed, flowed and something changed around him, yet for the most part, it stayed relatively constant. It was enough to let it just happen and allow it to flow over him.

"Danny?" Steve's hesitant smile dropped instantly as Danny lay with his eyes partially opened, yet utterly still and unresponsive. He waited a fraction of a second longer before reacting to the ghostlike, very disturbing stare. "Something's wrong."

He was gone then, forgetting the nurse's call button to leave the room at an anxious trot to find the closest doctor or nurse. "Danny?" Duke gently lay a hand on his friend's shoulder, surprised to find the odd combination of cold sweat and heat drifting upwards. "Danny, can you hear me? Steve's gone to get a doctor, so just hang in there for us. Alright?"

Wincing again for the lack of recognition, the older officer was rendered speechless while he hoped his presence was doing at least some good. But what he thought was eye movement at first, was really a glassy fixed expression. A doctor and two nurses maneuvered Duke to the side where Steve joined him. His fisted hands immediately found his hips out of a frenetically worried habit to vainly keep the rest of his body still. They both waited impatiently as the doctor examined Danny from head to toe until Steve couldn't take the confusion of orders. He calculated the severity of the doctor's face as he injected something into one of the intravenous lines and felt his own stomach plummet in warning.

"So? What's wrong?" The tone was harsh and Duke automatically put a restraining and on Steve's forearm. "He's awake .. he's looking at us."

The doctor's own pensive expression and dismal shake of the head negated that remark though. Steve had forgotten the stress the entire medical staff was under in addition to the Five-0 group. Over-taxed with injured peers and equally important Coast Guardsmen, the doctor was short and a bit more abrupt than normal. "He's in shock, Commander. And while he may hear or even sense something on some level, he's not exactly looking at any of us."

The curt answer was completely unsatisfactory, yet Steve couldn't find a single thing to say as he stared incomprehensibly at Danny's eyes. Slivers of pale blue could be seen, but they were indeed murky and quite unfocused. He barely heard the doctor's revised explanation as he shifted his feet to finally lean heavily on the base of the hospital bed.

"This could happen again and he may hear you .. or at least sense the activity around him. But no, he's not entirely aware nor awake." The doctor amended quietly.

"Fine." Almost defeated, Steve nearly spat the word out into hands that were strangling the bed's foot rail. "What did you just give him?"

"A dose of norepinephrine. His blood pressure is slightly improved and I wanted to encourage that with an added boost. It constricts the veins and arteries, without increasing cardiac pressure." The doctor gauged the two officers in front of him. One older and more calmly accepting, yet just as concerned. The second much younger and resentful of that same level of understanding. He searched his own ample knowledge base to find a reasonable next step that would give at least one of them something useful to do.

"I suggest doing whatever it was when he seemed to open his eyes." The doctor waited while looking at each man. In particular, the younger nodded and shrugged because he'd only been talking. Though the care was optimal and the nurses were well aware of any major changes in their patients, the doctor saw suit to add another comment before leaving the room. They were all traumatized one way or another; each needing support no matter how it was offered. "If anything else should happen, don't hesitate to get us back in here."

"Stay with him." Duke was sober as he awkwardly patted Steve's arm again. He would follow-up with the FBI and with the Pratt situation in his steady, diligent manner. He had heard the murmur of one voice as he approached Danny's room. He had listened briefly while standing in the doorway upon his arrival.

To compound that, he was sure that their soft conversation might have added to the small set of stimuli which brought Danny a bit closer to waking. It was also something that Steve needed to do for himself and Duke easily instilled the last prompt to make sure it happened. His last words pushed Steve to resume the seat he'd originally held by the bedside.

"Stay here and talk to him. I'll take care of everything else."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	18. Chapter 18

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

 

Shortly after Duke left the intensive care unit, Danny's eyes drifted shut. Steve didn't even realize that it happened until he glanced up and saw that Danny was completely gone once more. An hour later, his fingers clenched spasmodically once and then twice. Steve caught the movement out of the corner of his eye mid-sentence while reading a short blurb aloud from the previous day's sports section.

"Terrible sports writer, huh, Danno?" Instantly interested in the movement, Steve tried as the doctor suggested and he was rewarded a few seconds later. Danny's eyes did open, but even daring to wave his hand in front of Danny's face yielded nothing. Steve scowled at the strange hazy half-lidded stare only to be twice as disappointed when they slid closed much too soon.

"You have to stop doing that." Scrubbing at his hair, Steve softly snarked out of frustration. As he knew, his complaint was entirely disregarded as it dissipated into his cupped hands. Steve leaned forward, only to fall back in a senseless worried habitual fidget. His eyes were dry, burning holes and he hadn't realized how very tired he was until each hour now dragged by at a ridiculously snail-like pace.

In fact until that moment when an interesting musty odor wafted around him, he hadn't even known he was still wearing the same clothes from his foray into the jungle with Chin. Nose wrinkling, the next disgusted chuffed sound was entirely for himself, yet he didn't make a move to leave. At least, not yet.

"If you're awake, then stay awake and say something. None of this half-zombie crap, Danno. What the hell is that, anyway?" Loathe to leave, Steve started reading again using the newspaper as his continued foil. But with a futile shake of his head, he virtually balled the old rag into a sloppy disorganized mess. Even the daily gossip column was proving incredibly tedious; especially since he didn't know a single name in it.

With his partner seemingly unconscious and he becoming more moody, Steve didn't know what to do as time ticked on. Talking for a few more minutes resulted in nothing and he felt stupid for trying because now, he didn't know what he was trying for ... what precisely did he expect to happen?

Steve shifted in the chair and tried to get comfortable as his lower back muscles began to rebel in earnest. A good stretch caused his joints to pop down to his booted ankles. He blandly watched as another nurse came in and he used that as an excuse to wander briefly up and down the hallway, ignoring a subtle limp that suddenly cramped up behind his knee. A trip to look in on Chin, revealed the same as before. His friend was sleeping soundly and very comfortably, so Steve snuck out after only a quick reassuring glance. Two stoic FBI agents stood motionless by a particular intensive care unit door and he chose not to linger or inquire after Al Tortorro. He had an impulse to visit Kono next, but a check of the time dampened that straightaway and Steve was left to pace by himself in the near empty corridor.

After a while, he returned to Danny's room, worried and curious when the nurse stayed almost too long. But he was surprised to see the large oxygen mask being changed to a simpler nasal cannula and one less intravenous line terminating in Danny's left arm.

"Something's better?" Steve asked hopefully when she completed her tasks to meet him in the doorway. "Is he better?"

"Yes, I think his doctor is going to be happy." Her attitude was upbeat and pleasant as she brought him up to speed and Steve felt his entire body relax with a rush of relief. "His O2 saturation is greatly improved and his temperature is down two whole points. There's also an improvement in his blood pressure readings. Overall, he's stabilizing quite nicely."

As she walked away to check on her next patient, Steve discovered that he was too tired to smile. Upon re-entering the hospital room, he stood over his partner and catalogued some of the more obvious clues. Gone was the blue tinge to Danny's lips, and his face seemed more calm as if he were sleeping naturally versus a disheartening state of pure unconsciousness. "Good news, buddy. This ..  _this_  you can feel free to keep up." He murmured softly.

Picking his faithful chair up to bring it closer, Steve tried to get comfortable again. With the nurse's happier report, he considered leaving and coming back after a badly needed and longed-after steaming shower. A change of clothes for anything more presentable than the ones he was wearing would make him feel like a new man. He knew that because he was sure his pants would stand up on their own in the corner of the room for the thick layers of encrusted dirt and mud.

It would take him less than hour to set that personal plan into motion, yet he fought with himself about leaving his entire team alone at TAMC. Tired and peckish, he knew the building was indeed going to be a fortress after the terrible event. However in the end, Steve still did nothing. Picking at the badly cuffed fabric and its slight tear at his knee, he suddenly swore at the resulting sharp stabbing pain.

Dwindling into his upper shin, the pain remained as a dull throbbing ache. Not one of those aches that might fade away; but one that said it was here to stay and make trouble. However, Steve didn't immediately remember doing anything to warrant what he felt now as he tentatively poked and prodded the sensitive area. Tears sprang to his eyes when he thumbed a particularly painful spot just on the inner side of his knee. He swore again softly under his breath when things flared once more as a warning to  _not touch_.

"Damn it." He shook his head in confusion as the ache continued. Leaning forward and extending his leg straight out, he bent over to tug at his cargoes, but was barely able to get them up high enough to take a look. One final good pull finally brought them up to a point where he could catch a glimmer of a nasty bruise. But at the same time, he slid backwards and down into the chair with his leg elevated. From that awkward position, he tried to manipulate his leg to see better and nearly choked as the motion made everything ten times worse.

"Nice." Steve's eyes grew in surprise, stunned by the size of the swelling and the matching bruise laced across his knee-cap. "How the hell did that happen?" He muttered, hissing as he poked tentatively yet persistently at the fluid filled lump.

"When you .. dropped .. me." The weak whisper came from above his bowed head and Steve physically jolted in the chair. Knee forgotten, he was up an instant later with a staggered off-balance lurch towards the bed. Steve's eyes raked over Danny's face with a strong intensity to make sure of what he was seeing and to confirm that he had heard real words. There was little doubt that Danny was ill and bone-tired, however there was also no doubt that he was truly awake this time as his eyes rolled mockingly towards the ceiling to settle clearly back on Steve's own.

A smile split Steve's face as Danny pushed out one more very pertinent word. "Neanderthal."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Danny had a brief moment where he managed to wake more easily to listen to the hummed vibration. There was a muted, dull comprehension that the sensation of floating had dissipated to a great extent. In its stead, his awareness seemed to grow and for that, he was relieved. Danny opened his eyes, too, but was disappointed to see vague impressions of blurred colorless shadows. However, something finally triggered deep inside his brain to inform him that the vibratory humming sounds he heard were from a mellow voice.

 _It was speech._  Someone was talking and he complimented himself wholeheartedly at his sudden, unexpected success. Agreeing with himself to allow the constant hum to just be, Danny didn't need to stay awake then; he didn't need to worry about anything as he allowed himself to fall asleep listening to that one voice.

Sometime later though, there was a noticeable change. The hum was gone, to be replaced by a foreign presence. Non-threatening as it was, it made Danny stir with more of a palpable handle on his true reality. A fair amount of activity was taking place around him and he blearily peered up to catch the white blurred shadow of movement. But it was much too fast and unrecognizable to his fatigued mind, yet it seemed to linger in the background and just out of reach. Danny tried to listen, but he was tired and he closed his eyes briefly while listening to the sounds of another hum which seemed to focus solely on him and his well-being.

 _More speech .. more conversation._  Content to doze while he listened to snippets of words, Danny nearly fell asleep when he sensed Steve take up a solid space-eating presence by his bed-side.

An odd noise, suspiciously sounding like a disgusted oath of pain, had Danny reluctantly peeling his eyes open once more. He lay there gazing upwards before slowly turning his head. It took time and a great deal of frantic blinking for Danny to make out the top of Steve's mussed hair which was just on an even plane with the mattress. He blinked again to be sure he recognized the struggling bent over posture.

Forehead now crinkled in deep concentration, Danny watched the personal fight completely confused by the peculiar antics and muffled curses. He wanted to ask what Steve thought he was doing, but that would take more time since his mouth was refusing to properly cooperate. The watershed moment came when Steve suddenly lurched upright to slide down a bit in the chair. Based on his expression, there was no doubt that Steve hurt. Something  _hurt_  and he was grasping his knee between both hands while peeling back what remained of his cargo pants.

Danny quizzically raised his eyebrow at the loud stunned hiss of pain. He blinked and almost grinned at the air of confusion gracing Steve's face. But the muttered question prompted Danny to locate a bit of moisture in his mouth.

"How the hell did that happen?" There was a poke and another loud hiss of pain. Danny did grin then because even his weary mind was filling in gaps at a startling rate. He swallowed hard and moistened his tongue before sucking in a deeper breath of air.

"When you .. dropped .. me." His voice came out as a raspy weedy thing, but based on Steve's stunned reaction, he'd definitely been heard. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Danny had to add one more word of wisdom when he caught a faint glimpse of the injured knee as Steve's feet hit the tiled floor with a solid booted slap. "Neanderthal."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	19. Chapter 19

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

 

"I didn't drop you, Danno." Where before Steve's grin was hard to come by, he was now smiling from ear to ear. The relief in that smile was evident in each syllable of every single word. He rapidly searched his memory trying to figure out what his partner meant though. The sudden slip and resulting near fall in the dark as he carried the stretcher with Chin finally came to mind. He had skidded on the damp uneven rocky ground only to hit a boot-sized amount of loose pebbles. He had landed heavily on his left knee to prevent a real tumble. Danny had been duly rocked badly, but he certainly hadn't been dropped.

"If I had, I guess I wouldn't have hurt my knee saving your lazy ass by  _not dropping_  you. Besides, how could I ever explain something like that to Grace?" Unconsciously, Steve fingered the swelling around his kneecap. Why it chose to hurt now, he had no clue. Then again, the short chase across the TAMC parking lot, his side-long launch into the shooter, and dash up the hospital staircase hadn't done him any favors. Add in sitting now for hours on end, and Steve was sure that his issues with his knee were only superficial.

"Uh, huh. Grace? That's low, Steven." The squinted, near one-eyed glare was weak but there. The attempt meant to communicate annoyance but it was entirely negated by the faint quirk of Danny's own smile. There was a pause as he gathered energy and willed the last remnants of dizziness to go away before a sort of dare whispered between them. "Besides, what makes you think ... my daughter ... would believe you?"

As bad as it was, the game was on. In reply, Steve gave out with a pleased chuffed sound that mimicked a soft laugh. "Because, your daughter would always believe me."

"Oh really?" Danny's grin deepened at that notion. "Why's that?"

"Because her Uncle Steve is the epitome of valor and ... natural agility."

"Valor ... I'll give you. Maybe .. because you dropped me ... which also ... does nothing for your claim ... of agility." Danny's half lidded eyes managed to pry themselves fully open just before sagging partially closed. He was intent on speaking no matter how difficult it was becoming as he used up valuable oxygen and energy reserves that were minuscule at best. Steve narrowed his eyes as he noticed the subtle wheeze beginning on each shallow breath. Danny had been completely out for hours and was still treading a fine, critical line.

"I did not drop you!" Steve hushed out indignantly, at the same time a warning finger came up to forestall another attempted staccato outburst. "But that's enough for now, Danno. You need to rest, buddy."

Even warned, Danny was already taking another breath though to continue his point. While Steve disagreed wholeheartedly, he continued to gather dismal energy reserves against a body-wide tidal wave of exhaustion. A steady inhale then pushed out an incredulous whisper. "But natural .. agility? You ... almost dropped me!"

"Now it's  _almost_  dropped you?" Much quicker and unable to help himself, Steve practically laughed at the unintended slip. "And, yes. I'm perfectly skilled. Nimble, in fact."

Completely amused since Danny was more than just a bit off his game, Steve watched as a hand flailed a few inches off the white hospital sheet while Danny searched for words in his still somewhat muddled mind. He was sure that would be all based on the weakly raised eyebrow, but Danny was far from done.

"Hey! Okay." Steve was about to interrupt and put his foot down to end all conversation when the first loud, indignant puff came up from the bed. "Danny .. really." He started and then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling in futility as the same hand had the gall to wave higher. "Danny!"

"No. No, Steven. Nimble? You said ... nimble?" Danny finally snarked back, face reddening as he pushed through each steady inhale and exhale. "You ... are the epitome of a Neanderthal bull ... in a pristine ... china shop."

The friendly teasing was tired, wispy but definitely in play despite the obvious way Danny was feeling. Without permission and torn between laughing and his increasing concern for Danny's well-being, Steve thumbed the call button to the nurse's station. That action also effectively ended the ongoing need to talk, along with an unexpected dry cough.

"Alright, now that's enough. Point taken. Seriously, Danno, enough talking." Raising the bed slightly, Steve ended the short discussion by offering Danny the small disposable cup filled with mediocre tap water from the equally sad little plastic pitcher. The ice had long ago melted with the only evidence being the ring of dampness left on the elevated tray table. "I'll refill it and add ice." Steve amended when Danny made a slightly disagreeable face.

"S'fine. Seriously." Danny closed his eyes as he let the water clear the dry ache from his throat. He missed the rueful shake of Steve's head and the way he snared the nurse's call button to send a second request for someone to come look at his partner. Despite waking more coherently than Steve could have hoped, Danny was tired and feverish. Reddened points on his cheeks warred against a general pallor which was more pale than normal.

"Better." Danny murmured softly, fighting through leaden eyes to peer up at Steve. "Thanks." Anything wet was simply good enough and eyes slowly closing again, he had no real complaints after taking the soothing careful sips. The dizziness was lurking and he was indeed very tired.

"You've been out for a long time." Suddenly morphing into a very serious change of mood, Steve carefully sat on the edge of the bed to admit what had been foremost on his mind. He was more relieved than he thought possible when his partner truly woke without the frightening blank stare. He was making sense and was even in a fairly good mood as proven by the short teasing conversation. As the nurse had stated earlier, Danny had turned an important corner towards healing and Steve sighed audibly in relief. "Hours in fact, Danny."

With his eyes closed, Danny quietly absorbed that comment, easily reading the worry behind the words. Still immersed in the memories of the black, windy jungle, Danny wasn't entirely certain what was causing Steve's real concern. They had escaped the first murder attempt and eluded the second. He and Kono had managed to hide until help arrived ... help in the form of Chin and Steve which had almost too easily negated the final threat. But in thinking of that, Danny frowned behind closed lids as other memories swirled forward.

It hadn't been the  _final_  threat because something more had happened. And Chin ..  _Chin_  had been involved with more gunfire and another physical struggle. Newer memories threatened and niggled at him then despite Steve's ongoing soft murmur of conversation. Advice that he relax and remain quiet to calm his breathing and even go back to sleep. However inside, Danny was suddenly much less at ease and becoming more agitated as he tried to fine-tune remembered scents, painful touches, and frightening sounds.

There was a brief silence as the two sat quietly together with Steve still perched on a tiny scrap of mattress. Wondering why a nurse or doctor had yet to arrive and assuming another emergency elsewhere within the specialized unit, Steve was sure that Danny had fallen back asleep anyway. Multi-tasking quietly, he was experimenting behind the scenes with the tight kink in his knee and he winced before abandoning the concept of fully straightening it out in front of him. He'd have it checked later and was just about to return to the chair, when Danny's eyes flew back open in alarm.

"Danny?" Instantly attentive, Steve was back on high alert. "What's wrong?"

"Kono. Where is she? Is she alright?" Danny went to his first larger than life memory of dark jungle and Kono's near-ashen face. She'd been sick, injured and had soldiered on for all of them. She had kept Tortorro in line until help arrived virtually alone. But before Steve could answer, Danny gasped at the second much more recent event where he'd struggled against Mike .. _there had been trouble in the hospital._  He remembered that vividly now. The sharp stench of gunfire, shouts and even fearful screams.

He had tried to get up in order to help, but had been prevented with a near ruthless insistence.

"Mike. Chin. They were both shot .. by the orderly." The rush of stunned words wrought havoc on his breathing for a moment and Danny swallowed hard, completely ignoring Steve's soft sounds which were meant to calm him. He wound up falling limply back and just trying to breathe normally as an alarm went off somewhere behind his head. Somehow,  _someway_  .. one of Angel Tortorro's men had laid in wait for them in the trauma area to finish the job.

"Damn it, Danny." Lurching off the bed and hissing around a bad stumble which tweaked his knee, Steve found himself more anxiously hitting the nurse's call button for a third time. He grimaced towards the doorway and the dim-lit hallway for the late night hours. There was literally no activity that he could sense near their room. Not daring to take another step for his knee, Steve remained by the bed. He watched as Danny slowly regained some control of his breath, yet the machine was still making its annoying repetitive trill of sound.

"They're all fine." Steve insisted. "Everyone's okay, Danny. Just hold on and I'll explain. Don't get so worked up."

The agreeable nod was driven by Danny's inability to draw in a satisfying breath and he closed his eye to concentrate solely on relaxing. Drenched in sweat not only from fever, but now from a spark of pure adrenalin, Danny willfully sucked in a steadier breath. He was trying.

"Slowly." He nodded again to the demand when Steve grasped his forearm as another dry cough bubbled up. He was fine. The rest of the team was also fine. So now, it was only the vividness of the memories and Danny tiredly palmed his forehead only to have his hand pulled away by cool female fingers. Before he could fully open his eyes though, an oxygen mask was being fastened back into place.

"O2 stats dipped. But his blood pressure is all over the map all of a sudden." The ICU nurse explained softly to both men after rechecking Danny's readings and general comfort level. She peered queerly at Steve's near one-legged stance which he pursed his lips belligerently about rather than offering her a reason. Instead of pursuing what had happened, she focused on her actual patient who was happily awake with more improved readings than not.

"It's nice to see you, Detective. Very nice ... but too much talking. You can't stress yourself like this. Not yet." Patiently waiting after dispensing medication, she smiled in appreciation as his blood pressure returned to a more acceptable range.

"Is he alright?" The unexpected question from a new male voice came from the doorway. It preempted Steve's very similar question entirely as the two turned to look at the new visitor. Nervously glancing from the nurse to Steve, the young man looked as if he might even bow as he fingered a white envelope in his hands. "Officer Iona. HPD. Sergeant Lukela sent me. Is Detective Williams alright?"

The nurse couldn't help her grin at the brief introduction. Fully uniformed down to perfectly polished shoes and albeit extremely skittish, it was obvious that he was an employee of the Honolulu Police Department. She glanced briefly to his hands where he was flipping an envelope over and over between shaky fingers. The repetitive action had been going on for some time based on its worn and worried edges. Young though he was, she thought nothing of his presence especially when Steve seemed to accept his arrival.

"He's going to be fine." The nurse finally answered. Her expression was approving as Danny began to lose his battle to remain awake, very pleased to see that he was allowing the medication to pull him back under. "He needs to sleep. He needs to rest." She stressed once more. Then she stopped long enough to measure Steve's continued odd stance and the pained expression which he was failing at hiding. "What's wrong with you?"

Whatever the nurse had dispensed was strong and Danny found himself floating once more. The heightened feeling was far from disconcerting this time, though. It dampened memories, helped him to breathe easier and allowed his body to relax into a happier lethargy. Eyes closed and allowing the medication to work, he dozed but listened to words that he was losing back to the old, pleasant hum of vibratory sound. He heard the nurse's bold inquiry and his forehead creased in concentration before a sketchy type of smile lifted one side of his mouth under the oxygen mask.

"Check 'em .. out." Slurred and barely audible under the mask, Danny tried to be heard. There was a fidget below their noses and Steve had to grin at the stray, lazy finger which pointed absolutely nowhere in the direction of his aching knee. In fact, the words were only just intelligible. "Dropped .. me .. knee."

The nurse had leaned over to try to hear Danny better. "Dropped?" She cocked her head quizzically at what she thought she heard, before turning on Steve. "What? Did he say that you dropped him?  _Dropped_?"

"I didn't drop him!" Steve offered lamely. He made a face in total disgust because that particular conversation had ended. Minutes ago, in fact. It had ended and yet, Danny was still getting the last word in despite closed eyes and being half asleep due to medication and wracked with fever. He swore that there was even a faint smile to his partner's lips under the mask and a faint crinkling near his eyes.

"Go to sleep, Danno." He took the chance that Danny was shamming, then. The huffed, rudely sounded retort proved Steve right when Danny's grin did indeed crinkle his brow even more. He paused and avoided the nurse's laughing eyes entirely.

"Iona?" Turning to the newly arrived HPD officer who screamed  _rookie_  by his very demeanor, Steve casually changed the subject. At least, he tried. "So, Iona ... Duke sent you over?"

Looking nervously from the bed, to the nurse and back to the Five-0 commander, Iona shrugged before remembering to stand at attention. The atmosphere in the hospital room was strange at best as attention moved from the recovering detective to his superior. Not daring to speak though, Iona only measured the commander's weird stance. He frowned before schooling his features back to blandness. The man was dressed in full SWAT-like gear, very rumpled and undoubtedly exhausted. Things were beginning to make sense now as the nurse purposefully folded her arms to ready for a stand-off.

"Iona?" Lost in those thoughts, the Five-0 commander brusquely called him back to center. "Lukela wanted you to give me that?"

"Yes. And I'm to give you this and wait for your orders." Hurriedly, Iona handed him the small white envelope which Steve opened, not losing the fact that the nurse hadn't budged an inch. Peripherally, Steve could just see her trying to measure the swollen joint under the badly scuffed knee of his pants and how he had it cocked so he could balance on his toe. Even the new HPD arrival was pensively looking at him now.

Ignoring both, Steve read the letter which was indeed from Duke. He glanced curiously at the nervous unsettled young officer who was standing at full attention but allowing his eyes to wander down to Steve's injured knee. "Hey." Steve waved the letter in the air towards the Rookie to draw his gaze back up. "This is interesting, Iona." His second read through it made him chuckle as he realized what the older Sergeant was doing.

"So, Officer Keanu Phillip Iona. Do you know what this note says?" Steve asked, grinning when the young man swallowed convulsively.

"No, sir. Only to report here, sir, and to await your orders." The officer in front of him was the one who had seemingly erred so badly in allowing Andrea Winston to escape their care. As a penance, Sergeant Duke Lukela had assigned the embarrassed young man to the Five-0 team for the foreseeable future. He was to do anything that Steve required as his team recovered, no matter how mundane the task.

"Uh, huh. Evidently you've been temporarily assigned to our team ... actually, as my personal assistant." Steve smirked and then seriously almost lost his balance as his primary leg cramped and his toe slipped on the linoleum. His wobble was significant enough for Iona to spring into action by grabbing Steve's arm before he could literally fall on the floor. His muffled oaths were telling as to the true nature of his discomfort.

"So, it is your knee." The nurse pursed her lips and folded her arms sternly because now, she was certain of what the detective had whispered. "Officer Iona, it seems that you've been assigned as the 5-0 gopher while the entire team is laid up. I have a job for you as the Commander's personal assistant." The only silent reply from Iona as he held his new boss up by one arm, was the egregious look lacing his face as he tried to absorb the import of what his senior officer had saddled him with, and possibly indefinitely.

"No." Steve objected around another wobble which required Iona to tighten his hold before aiming him to the lone chair. His groan leaked out regardless of his best efforts as his knee refused to any added movement or weight. "No, not the  _whole_  team and he's my assistant. You can't order him around." Steve objected through teeth that were now gritted in pain, glaring at the woman as she had the gall to chuckle.

Pre-emptively waving her hand at Iona, the nurse ignored Steve to point outside towards the hallway. "Find me a wheelchair. We have something to get to the bottom of."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	20. Chapter 20

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

 

"No it's not." Indignantly pointing from the wheelchair to the large computer screen broadcasting the outcome of his knee injury, Steve adamantly shook his head. It made no difference to him that his entire leg was now slightly elevated on the wheelchair's footrest or that two large ice packs encircled a very colorfully bruised joint. It didn't matter that Steve could barely stand by that point for the pain and significant swelling. Staring at the x-ray on the screen and then scowling into the doctor's bland face, he remained in utter denial.

"That has to be the wrong scan, because no ... it's not."

Behind him and strangling the chair's handles, Iona blushed as his new boss objected to the fine doctor's diagnosis. The medical genius was one of the best orthopedic surgeons within the esteemed TAMC's faculty. Even Iona could see that Doctor F.A. Denton knew what he was doing and for him, Steve's injury was quite straight forward and almost ... mundane.

However his patient, now in a mint green hospital gown after going through a number of x-rays, was wholeheartedly disagreeing with the expert's prowess. The results were in and yet, there was a very vocal objection well in progress.

"Yes, if you look here," and Steve glowered angrily as Denton used his ballpoint pen just shy of the screen to demonstrate the fine thin line from left to right. "Your patella is fractured. I must say you are very lucky because the fracture is quite stable and it could have been much worse for the added stress you placed it under by not having it looked at right away."

Having slammed his hands firmly into his lab coat pockets, the doctor smirked back completely unfazed by his latest patient's reaction. Behind his eyes though, wheels were churning as he weighed the exhausted expression worsened by what he knew was a painful injury. "As I was saying, recovery time is about six weeks. You have to stay completely off your left leg for that time period. I'm assuming you can manage crutches?"

Still behind Steve, the doctor watched in amusement as the young HPD officer dramatically hung his head. A large plastic bag of the commander's filthy clothing hung from his shoulder since the Five-0 leader was certain he was in no way, being admitted. That in fact was quite true, however he was going to be on the docket for a laundry list of next steps before being released. Denton raised his eyebrows comically as Iona's inaudibly mouthed ' _shit_ ' was read easily enough and he had to physically bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

"I'll put the orders in and write-up the prescription plus any other required paperwork." Clenching and unclenching his fingers busily in his pockets, the doctor lobbed his next demand which nearly sent Steve into the stratosphere.

"I can do the cast in about an hour's time, so we'll find a temporary room for you where you can wait comfortably."  _Sleep_  was what the doctor meant, too. Mental calculations were failing him as he tried to tally up the hours since the incident in the trauma room because he also had to figure in the commander's earlier mission to retrieve the plane crash victims. Prior to that, he was even more unaware of the man's typical schedule .. if there even had been one.

"Cast?" Steve virtually growled out the word before slouching back in the wheelchair. "No. That won't work for me."

"It has to." The doctor blithely replied as he picked up the exam room's telephone to locate a spare outpatient room and submit orders for the full leg cast. Once done, the cast would extend from the upper thigh and down to the ankle. Wisely staying away from those particulars until the deed was accomplished, he spoke quickly before the department he wanted picked up on his call.

"It is what it is and you have zero choices, Commander. Rather, you need to be happy that you don't require surgery or even a hospital stay for that matter."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Steve lay back on the hospital bed with one arm flung over his eyes and a short stack of pillows carefully placed under his damaged knee courtesy of Officer Iona. Classified as an out-patient, he was in a private area and waiting for Denton to appear. A nurse had gotten new chemical ice packs and then had covered him with a single white sheet, suggesting he close his eyes until the doctor was ready to set the cast. Evidently the physician had a series of rounds to do for more critical patients and would attend to Steve as soon as he was able. Until then, Steve was encouraged to relax and rest, something he was not particularly in the mood to do. Instead, Steve fought the sleep that tugged so strongly at him as soon as he deigned to assume a horizontal position and stressed muscles began to soften bit by bit. He continued to consider options though he knew that Denton was not up for negotiation on his diagnosis, nor the one and only mode of treatment.

"Time?" Steve didn't move as he asked his question of Iona who was stationed just inside the doorway and still holding his bag of personal clothes and belongings. Iona was loathe to allow anything of the Commander's out his sight. Especially the impressive stash of belongings which included two guns and one very large knife.

Steve at least had taken the pain medication and anti-inflammatories which had also been brought in by the kind nurse. His knee was now feeling fine as long as he didn't move it too much. But he was sure that the one hour quoted was long expended. "What time is it now?"

"It's a little after eleven in the morning." Iona replied, wishing the Five-0 leader would relax enough to actually sleep. He was learning rapidly that one, Steve McGarrett, was an impatient sort. Impatient and overly opinionated as he questioned each and every second of non-action or another's decision even if that other were an esteemed medical professional.

"Do me a favor and get a status on each of my people. I'm tired of waiting and I need to know. Find out about our man, too." Steve's order was muffled under his arm. Happy to move, Iona jumped on the task. He'd been at a loss of what to do and idly standing by in a corner or up against a wall was making him feel like an incompetent school boy.

"Yes, sir." Iona paused because he was better than most. Suddenly he needed Steve to know that Sergeant Lukela had stressed the criticality of keeping any details related to the Tortorro issue close to his vest. That he absolutely could be relied upon and that he understood the proprietary nature of whom Steve referred to as ' _our man_ '.

Before he properly gathered those thoughts, Iona blurted the facts quickly and without apology. "And before you say it, sir. Yes, I do understand the need to maintain our man's privacy and what that indicates in the long run."

With that off his chest, Iona essentially fled the room cradling the bag of belongings. Under his arm, Steve smiled as he heard the steady foot steps leave and then the door snick softly shut. Duke knew what he was doing and he'd have to find a way to properly thank the man. Pacified by having the young officer at his beck and call, he finally allowed himself to doze.

Iona decided to visit Kono first since they were closer to her single room. As he approached, he was relieved to see a female HPD officer he knew rambling the long corridor. The two acknowledged each other to go about their business monitoring traffic in, out and around where their peer was recuperating. Since it was mid morning, Iona entered Kono's room correctly assuming she'd be awake. No less than five tabloid magazines lay across her bed, yet none were being read.

More than a full day now of being properly hospitalized had done wonders for Kono's health, yet nothing for her mood. Morose and preoccupied, she greeted him nicely enough but with little interest. If he had assumed his visit to Kono to be the easiest, he realized then that he was soon to be sadly mistaken.

"Are you taking over for Anela?" Her injured arm lay gently in her lap, neatly bandaged. A rectangular bandage graced her temple and just into her hair line where some of her thick black hair had been shaved away. Iona didn't know, but at least the rest had been washed, combed out and tied back in a somewhat neat pony tail.

"Not exactly. Anela is on duty." Iona had been practicing what to say but still, Kono's response wasn't what he anticipated as she asked about the female HPD officer still pacing the corridor. He had wanted to kindly inquire about how she was feeling, instead her attitude was already derailing him. She was squinting due to a pervasive headache and in a mood from having had her sleep disturbed by bouts of nausea during the overnight hours. Dr. Agnes Phillips, the neurologist, wasn't entirely pleased with her hydration levels, complaints of headache, or the slow recovery of her pupils to react more normally. Kono had just been told to expect another eight to twelve hours of hospitalized monitoring minutes before Iona's arrival.

"My name is Keanu Iona." He heaved in a breath to mentally start over. The end result being that it took Kono one pulse beat later to understand his meaning. "Sergeant Lukela assigned me to your team while you all recover. I've been asked to help out wherever I can."

"Really." Kono perked up a bit. "Help?" She had two things to ask of him, each equally important in her book and she jumped at the opportunity. "I've asked the nurses twice for an update on Danny and Chin. I have no idea where Steve is. In fact, no one's come back and its been hours. Can you get a wheelchair and get me into the ICU?"

"Uh. Sure, yes. Of course. If you're allowed." With Steve's orders on his mind, he hesitated before quickly agreeing. The ICU was obviously his next stop and he could manage Kono's visit and then bring her safely back with time to spare as the Commander had his knee casted. Iona was about to leave when she stopped him cold with her next question.

"Wait. What exactly did you mean by ' _all_ '?" Her careful drawl made him wince uncomfortably. Kono noticed that too, and made another face while studying his posture. "You said the word " _all_ "; like ' _while you all recover_ '."

Iona was quickly learning how astute the entire Five-0 team was and how anything he did or said without even uttering a real word would be placed under a microscope. Headache or not, Kono had hung on every word he'd said since he'd entered the room. "What happened to Steve? He was fine." Kono squirmed up in her bed with even more intensity.

"Umm." Iona searched his brain for the easiest explanation. Reaching down to demonstrate, he tapped his own left knee. "He .. umm ... it seems he hurt his knee. He had trouble walking and then couldn't bend it so went in for x-rays. The ortho said he fractured his patella."

"What!" Her truly stunned reply was loud resulting in the advent of at least one nurse and the female HPD officer's return on a run. Kono flung her hand up in the air to forestall their interruptions and communicate she was technically fine as she stared wide-eyed at Keanu Iona. "He fractured .. did you say  _fractured_  .. his knee?"

The uncomfortable swallow and head bob were secondary to Iona's self-conscious sickened expression. "He's getting it casted by the ortho now .. or at least soon .. downstairs."

"Casted?" It seemed impossible, but Kono's eyes were larger darkened saucers by that point. "Oh brah, he's not going to like that. Casted? Like a real cast?" She groaned dramatically while waving her hand at the nurse who had started to fawn over her agitated patient. "Wheelchair. I want to see Chin, Danny ... and Steve. Right now."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

It took some inventive wheedling on Iona's part, but he successfully got Kono to visit the group in the ICU first. It was a matter of self-preservation to gain that agreement because he dare not return to the Commander with only one of his team in tow and no other updates in hand.

Kono sat in the corridor trying to figure out why she refused to allow Iona to roll her the few steps forward. The two FBI agents were watching her and she refused to meet their eyes. Instead, she stared at the doorway to Al Tortorro's ICU room, squared her jaw and then nodded that she was ready. Wheeled in by Iona, she felt nothing but sadness for the comatose criminal. She stayed no more than five minutes listening to the steady whoosh of the life support equipment before forgetting that Iona was even still there to help her. Her good hand groped for the wheel but then she was being mysteriously moved backwards in a type of retreat into the hallway.

"Thanks." She whispered behind closed eyes hidden behind one splayed hand. Her chauffeur didn't reply though, instead he took her directly to her cousin's room where he learned that Chin Ho was soon to be moved out of the ICU to a regular room. The goal was for him to be released the day after that in order to rest at home. Iona left them then to talk privately together to poke his head into Danny's room.

"Hey. You awake?" Though the head of the bed was raised, Iona knit his brow when he saw the oxygen mask still in place versus the simpler nasal cannula.

"Yeah." Tiredly, Danny waved him in. "So? What's the verdict?" He had hoped the young officer would return and had been dozing on and off around an uncomfortable feverish shiver. His temperature had come down three points but was elevated enough for him to know that he was still sick. His body continued in its objection to the infection despite the regimen of antibiotics and rehydration.

"Steve .. umm .. Commander McGarrett had his ex-rays done. He's downstairs." Iona wrinkled his nose as he delivered the news, somewhat surprised be the odd half-disbeliving smirk adopted by the bedridden detective. "Doctor Denton says that his patella is fractured; he also said that the Commander was lucky it wasn't worse after waiting so long to have it examined."

"Animal. He broke his kneecap." Danny whispered around a slight smile and aggravated shake of his head. He had expected a diagnosis of a bone bruise or damaged ligament, but certainly not what Iona delivered. He also knew there'd be a cast involved from personal experience and knew how Steve was accepting of that particular requirement. "I'm sure he's not handling the need for a cast very well. He's going to be laid up for awhile with a break."

"Fracture." Iona corrected, knowing both were essentially the same; it was a battle of semantics. But to him  _fracture_  sounded a bit better than  _break_ and likely because the word Danny used would catapult his new boss into a larger sour mood.

"The good news is that Denton said it was a clean one which didn't require surgery." Heaving a long steady breath in for an even longer, pregnant exhale, Iona shared what he knew with Danny. He was beyond thankful that the detective understood the earlier challenges of managing that truth, regardless. "He's not real happy and I'll take him home when he's released. Doctor Denton said it would be a good six weeks after that."

"Truck. He's got a duffel in his truck .. clean clothes." Danny offered with short pauses to catch his breath, followed up by an off-hand gesture. Iona raised his eyebrows at the odd comment, but the next one had him even more baffled. The detective was staring at the plastic hospital issued personal's bag he continued to carry with him. "By the way, are those his old clothes there?"

"Well, yeah. I thought he'd need them ... but I can get the clean batch from the truck." Confused, Iona nodded as he plunked the bag down on the bed. Danny was carefully squirming upwards to sit taller. Suddenly he wasn't as tired as he had been as an idea flittered dangerously across his mind. He winced and almost ran out of breath, but the more he thought on it, the better the concept was. He was beginning to smile by the time he got better situated and rode out the twinge of pain in his side.

"Oh, you're going to do that too but bring them to me first." Fishing through the bag of near-ruined clothes, Danny snagged the large sheathed knife and the filthy pair of cargos. He nodded appreciably when he located Steve's truck keys.

"Here." Iona caught the keys as they were tossed into his chest. But his eyes widened as Danny unsheathed the knife after laying the black cargos across his lap. Estimating by eye, the detective began to hack away at each leg just above the knee.

"Should you do that?" Iona gasped as Danny happily continued to hack away at the material.

"Yup." The reply was smooth and filled with a certain level of evil glee. This was Danny's practice pair and he was already gloating in anticipation about getting his hands on the duffel bag. Glancing up at the overly nervous Iona, he waved him out of the room with the knife.

"Go! Get the bag out of the big Silverado. Go .. shoo!" The staccato voiced command was muffled under the oxygen mask, but the smile and chuckle were unmistakable. Iona though, had yet to find the humor in what Danny had decided to do.

Rolling his eyes because he knew ..  _he just knew_  .. this was going to be the worse assignment of his life, Iona left the ICU. "He's going to kill me." He muttered under his breath. "Just totally kill me."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	21. Chapter 21

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

 

"We're done now, Commander." Denton had completed the finishing touches on the cast with his patient becoming more and more disagreeable by each passing inch of its molded fitting. He had also been watching the man like a hawk; noting the glassy-eyed expression and muted shake to his hand which he'd been trying to hide. Every so often, there was a spasmodic swallow which indicated nausea, yet that likely fact was denied each time Denton had asked.

"This will only need about thirty minutes to dry and you can go on your way."

The first step had easily appealed to Steve and leaving for a few hours certainly did, too. The orthopedic doctor had spontaneously used a waterproof cast liner as an underpad to withstand water for bathing, washing and even swimming. However, the more lengthy second step had taken a southerly direction evidenced by Steve's temperamental mood despite Denton's blithe remarks about the fiberglass cast being of lighter weight and more breathable than its older plaster counterpart.

"I don't see why it's got to be so damned ... big." Steve had alternated between leaning completely back to rest and propping himself up on his elbows to watch the fine physician. His ire at having his entire leg encased for six weeks was slowly reaching a vexed state of no return. The truth was though, that he did understand because he'd been told numerous times about the necessity of keeping his healing patella free of any stresses or movement. This included undo pressure or tension from surrounding ligaments, tendons and muscles.

He chuffed in disgust as he eyed the horrifically restrictive object that graced his leg like an alien being. "Now what?" He growled out angrily. "How am I supposed to get home like this or do a single thing for that matter?"

Steve thumped back onto the bed in a temper. He was typically much more accepting, mild-mannered and able to cope with any multitude of things thrown his way; even when they were least expected. But this had completely taken away his fortitude and ability to come to terms with such an overwhelming, new challenge.

"You're tired." Denton again was spouting a gentle truth Steve had no interest in hearing. Constantly checking his watch, he felt that he had a lot to do, even more to look after and now, Keanu Iona was taking much too long to return. The doctor was correct though and Steve bit back a retort while rubbing eyes which were watery, painful circles. He was exhausted and a dull headache had become a new persistent friend. And while he wasn't all that nauseous per se, his stomach was in a bit of a disagreeable snit.

"Rest for the next thirty minutes. When that young HPD officer returns, we can discuss how best to get you home and make sure you have access to any help you might need." The advice continued to be sound and offered in a steady manner.

With a somewhat agreeable wave of his hand, Steve closed his eyes. He fidgeted, then dozed only to wake impatiently to more restlessness. He waited the thirty minutes, and then forty-five. He stifled an irritated comment about his new AWOL personal assistant, and then was about to ring the nurse's station when Denton returned with crutches and a wheelchair.

"It's about time." Steve moodily remarked. He squirmed upright to then accept the help from Denton and the nurse, determinedly biting back a dizzying wave of annoying vertigo. It darkened his peripheral vision to leave sparkling stars dancing in the space between where he sat and the wheelchair.

"Are you alright? Don't move for a minute and let us help you." He heard Denton's voice as if it were intentionally muffled by wads of cotton. A hand wrapped around his wrist and he completely missed the warning look Denton aimed at his nurse to be ready as their patient's blood pressure dropped too quickly. Tired was exhausted and the crash was officially pending. They studiously aimed him backwards again as he wobbled in place. "Commander? Steve?"

Unable to speak, Steve shook his head as if to clear the oddly wavy obstructions from his eyes and ears. He felt strong hands on his shoulders as he rocked badly in a seated position. He'd barely moved twelve inches on the hospital bed, yet his ability to focus was entirely gone.

He felt their hands and heard the murmurs of support but could do nothing as his world tilted drastically once more. Vainly attempting another shake of his head, that misguided action was the last thing he remembered as he pitched uncontrollably forward. Saved by two sets of hands, he was out for the count as Denton carefully lay him back on the hospital bed with a rueful, tolerant grin.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Kono and Keanu Iona stood outside the small out-patient room where Steve supposedly had just had his cast put on. Iona was fretting that he'd been gone for such a long period of time, that Steve would lambaste him for having to wait. Or worse, think that something was wrong with a member of his team. However, they'd been forbidden to enter with no reason readily offered.

"Maybe I should take you back." Iona offered. Kono was pale and approaching an uncomfortable state of illness again after being up too long.

"Not until we find out what's wrong." Admittedly tired, Kono was now more upset that something had happened to Steve. A few minutes later though, Doctor Denton stepped out to their combined relief.

"Before you ask, yes, we had a bit of a problem." Denton raised one hand to quiet their dual outbursts before they could occur. "He's going to be fine, but the Commander passed out when he sat up. Do either of you know when he last had something to eat? Or more importantly, actually slept more than fifteen minutes at one stretch?"

Iona's mouth flapped open and then slammed shut. He had nothing to say or offer because he truly didn't know. Shaking her head as well, Kono of course was in the same dark ignorant corner. "Oh." Her shock came out as a soft monotone sound and it took her a moment to recover. She could guess based on what had happened over the last many hours and grimaced worriedly.

"No. I have no idea. None."

"We're going to let him sleep himself out in here." Denton explained. "He's a bit dehydrated so I ran a line for fluids. Nothing too bad but I thought it best to further stabilize his system. Other than that, the man is simply exhausted clear off his feet."

"Can we see him?" It didn't matter to Kono that Steve would be sleeping. She needed to put her mind at ease that he'd be fine by laying her eyes directly on his face. Denton quietly reopened the door for them to go in. He understood the ongoing stress caused by a mission fraught with problems from start to finish. Even the hospital was continuing to reel from the terrible after-affects of losing one of their own and having a number of their peers wounded by the frightening attack. Everyone needed a brand of reassurance and more than a modicum of regular kindness.

"I doubt if a squadron of F-14 fighter jets landing on the roof of this fine establishment would wake him at this point, but keep it down. Make sure that you don't disturb him." He admonished softly. "Try not to stay too long."

Lips tightened to a thin white line, Kono nodded as Iona wheeled her in. The HPD officer then frowned in concern for a number of very valid reasons. First, Steve was pale and completely unmoving which was disconcerting unto itself. During the short span of time spent in his company, the Five-0 Commander had been a ball of active energy. Secondly, he couldn't quite make out the size of the cast which seemed to take over the bulk of the bed. He made a face before looking a second time to gauge what looked like a cumbersome thing of a very interesting color.

"Oh, boss." Kono whispered tightly. She ran her hand over her eyes and sighed quietly. Of course he'd be fine, but knowing Steve had run himself into the ground for all of them was beyond upsetting. She wanted to sympathetically reach out and touch his hand or his arm, but refrained in fear of changing the peaceful quietude of the room.

"The cast." The words hung ever so softly above her head. Iona cocked his head to visually trace the impressive outline under the light hospital sheet. "Impressive." It seemed to encase the area just above Steve's knee, all the way down to his ankle. There was a slight bend molded into it, but if what Iona could make out was real, the Commander was likely not very pleased.

"Yeah. I bet that went over well." Kono breathed back on a soft exhale as she too gauged the formidable outline of the molded cast. "Probably looks a lot worse than it is."

The lights in the room had already been dimmed and the sides to the bed pulled up should its occupant accidentally move or roll in sleep. But based solely on the deeply lax expression which was conversely creased with heavy lines of bone-weary fatigue, Kono knew that Steve would not be moving for many hours to come. He was already in a profoundly comfortable state which he very well deserved. She managed a smile when his fingers twitched. Then she was gesturing Iona to back them both out as quietly as they'd entered.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	22. Chapter 22

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

 

A lot can happen in fifteen minutes. An hour can change a life. After fourteen hours go by, a new world might even dawn.

Prior to the first minute expiring just midway through those fourteen long hours, Kono had sent Keanu Iona packing to rest and care for regular HPD business. However, he had dutifully returned to the hospital when summoned back shortly afterwards in order to cart her home and to check on each remaining team member.

At the near conclusion of those fourteen hours, it was declared by the powers that be that Chin would be next on the list for discharge, unless Steve ever decided to awaken on his own. By then Chin and Danny had cobbled together bits and pieces of the trauma room ordeal from nurses, doctors, and a few of the more talkative FBI.

The TAMC orderly murdered outside had been the only sad death. Along with the TAMC security guard, two trauma room doctors, one nurse and two orderlies rounded out the list of the TAMC injured. All were still hospitalized in one way or another but expected to fully recover. It was a long enough list of damaged lives made worse by emotional stress. Danny remembered portions of his altercation with Mike over wanting to help and only hesitating asked after the Coast Guardsman's welfare when no one readily offered any updates. He was pleased to learn that Mike had been lucky and that he'd been already released to recover at home. In fact even Abrams, after sustaining a head wound, had followed suit.

Somewhere between all of this time, various medical decisions and the clock's resolute ticking, Danny had also finally been transferred from the ICU to be ensconced in his own private room.

Displeased all over again regarding the unexpected news on Steve, Danny was fidgeting and asking hourly if something might be more wrong for the extended state of near unconsciousness. The lengthy block of time was startling unto itself and utterly out of character for his overly active friend. Explanations from each calm nurse and from Doctor Denton were valid, but not entirely received with an equal amount of accepting tolerance.

"It's been over fourteen hours." Blatantly pointing to the wall clock, Danny challenged Doctor F. A. Denton for the third time that day. "Tired or not, who can possibly sleep for that long and be alright?"

"He's fine." Arms folded tightly across his chest, Denton repeated the two words endlessly. "I'm telling you that he is absolutely fine. It was only a matter of time based upon the physical stressors combined with lack of sleep, a bit of dehydration and then the knee injury. Frankly Detective, I saw it coming before I even applied the cast. Your Commander was pushing much too hard."

Inhaling deeply through his nose, Danny blew all the air he could roughly out through his mouth. It was a unsatisfying reply but entirely true. He glanced up to Iona who had arrived unannounced and much earlier than required. He was listening intently to the ongoing repartee and hanging onto each word like a starved dog. They were all still greatly on edge and having the entire team at such a significant disadvantage was a radical phenomenon.

"You're back." Danny muttered to Iona as Denton left the room. He watched the white coat flutter away and sighed with a dramatic loud tone for his own disgruntled benefit.

"I thought it best to check in." Iona explained. Hours had passed since he'd taken Kono home and no one had called him with any updates or requests. Impatience had become a nervous concern and so, Iona had proactively returned. He hadn't anticipated finding Danny in a private room. He was relieved at the improvements, but just as disturbed as Danny to hear that Steve still hadn't budged.

"What do you need?" Wisely avoiding revisiting that particular topic, Iona prompted Danny based on the newly interested expression. "What's on your mind?"

"A phone and some help in tracking down my ex-wife." Smiling now, Danny was comfortable enough and ready to contact Rachel Edwards. He wasn't sure if anyone had tried to call her, and he didn't much mind either way with the issues in play and the miserable way he'd been feeling in the ICU. But now in a more comfortable place, he needed to contact her and then more realistically, speak to his young daughter.

"Done." Iona grinned in relief, grandly offering Danny his own cell phone. Aware of the man's divorce and adoration of his young daughter, Iona could easily assist the detective with that small request. The use of his private cell phone was no price at all to help set his mind at ease.

The simple tracking down of Rachel on the mainland was far from complicated and Iona was soon completely handing off his cell phone just as the call connected. He loitered and then left the room entirely as Danny explained the covert nature of the mission skipping over and omitting much of the other treacherous fanfare. His current stay at the hospital was gently played down and pushed smoothly under the carpet with reassurances that he'd be looking forward to their return -  _to seeing his daughter, Grace_  - in just three days time as originally planned.

Danny called for Keanu after ending the conversation. He was relatively content and feeling better as some normalcy returned. "One more favor before you go?" Danny twitched an eyebrow, causing Iona to imperceptibly tighten his expression. The chuckle which followed along with the next statement did little to settle his sudden anxious feeling. Based on the subtle change in Danny's demeanor, Iona knew without a doubt that this particular favor would be different and quite possibly, much more of a challenge.

"Umm. Sure." The young officer hesitantly replied. He was starting to pick up on certain tiny clues which seemed to precede one or two of the detective's most interesting questions or ideas. A certain twitch or squint of the eyes being the strongest of these hints. Iona's face must have read like an open book for the detective's wry grin.

"It's not that bad. Not really." Danny insisted. "After, you might as well get out of here because we're all still a bit stuck for the duration."

"Uh huh. What else do you need?" Unconvinced, the young officer enduringly stood his ground. He had his orders but was fast learning caution amongst the various Five-0 team members. He was obviously relieved at having another temporary reprieve from the hospital. However, he was still fretting over Steve's general condition, as well as the artistically repaired articles of clothing which he no longer held control over. The detective was wily at best and it was becoming obvious that his reprieves - and special favors - held a price.

Borrowing Iona's cell phone to contact the detective's ex-wife had only been the beginning. Iona had to bury his mental wince when the second special favor was finally voiced.

"I'd like you to go back to the ICU." As another important favor before departing hospital grounds, Danny wanted to send Iona to find out how Al Tortorro was faring. The task was a bit unfair because Iona risked ridicule as the one person played by Andrea Winston.

"Check on our man upstairs. I'd like to know how he's doing and any rough idea of next steps." Danny cocked his head then, waiting for the refusal which oddly didn't come. "Can you manage that?"

"Alright." Iona had some honest misgivings, but he readily agreed to something which more naturally fit his penchant for police work regardless of its potential challenges. Squared shoulders and a definitive nod soon sealed the deal. Sighing to himself privately as he walked the hallway towards the bank of elevators, Iona prepared himself and mentally listed his questions.

However, and not because Andrea Winston had gotten away on his watch, the final result with the two FBI agents was less than satisfactory. Reporting back to Danny faster than what felt comfortable for the importance of the task, Iona shared that he was provided with precious little update other than that the prisoner was still alive and on life support. He was disappointed personally, though he knew he had diligently tried to coax more information from the small team of two agents.

"I'm sorry. I tried but that was all they would admit to. Even the doctors are silent on the man's status."

"It's fine." Momentarily distracted, Danny weighed the overly cool reactions in his mind. The FBI had adopted an attitude of sorts beyond any need to show the young HPD officer any contempt at all; they had bigger issues or plans to contend with.

Fearing the worst, the non-reaction made Iona return to Danny even more on edge and his detailed description of what sounded like a bland interview similarly raised Danny's hackles. With the entire Five-0 team essentially down and now moved away from the intensive care unit, the FBI had laid full claim to the criminal.

They were moving on and taking Al Tortorro in tow.

Iona waited, fidgeting from foot to foot as the Detective remained silent. He could easily see that his update had caused an internal debate of sorts. He didn't understand and scowled unhappily at his indecision of how to best help.

"Should I go back?" Iona asked, disheartened more when a silent hand waved once in his direction to quiet his concerns. He pushed regardless and winced when Danny made a face. "Maybe try a different tactic?"

"No, it's fine. He's their problem .. that part is true." Danny amended under his breath and more for his own benefit.

To be fair, Tortorro had always been ' _theirs_ ' in the first place. But the cold, unfriendly tone was setting the stage for the unsettling rise of something new ... something that neither Five-0 nor HPD would approve of as ties were severed. Danny groused nonsensically under his breath before finally sending Iona on his way. There was nothing to be done about it and his feelings of being rudely spurned were just that: injured feelings prompted by a clear lack of professional courtesy.

"Are you sure?" Iona inquired again, because he was willing to run the gauntlet if it resulted in something more beneficial.

"No need." Firmly making his decision, Danny looked up from where he'd been blindly studying the boring white hospital sheet. He narrowed his eyes to weigh and measure the young, polished HPD officer. More than a bit at full attention and forever serious, Keanu Iona was hesitant to leave and Danny offered him a gentle smirk.

"I'll call you when he wakes up." Iona reddened nervously at Danny's unexpected remark. Regardless of everything else, Danny found it amusing that sleep seemed to provide Iona with as much stress as if Steve were awake. But Danny soon found himself lost in thought once more, finally rueing what he had so obviously missed in a delayed understanding of Iona's real problem. It was wrapped up in a tidy bow of frequent visits, over-staying, fawning for each person's needs and willingness to help with carrying a simple bag of personal bag of clothing.

"It's not your fault you know." Danny gently announced, acknowledging now the young man's stunned reaction as the truth of his words hit home with a startling intuition. "No one knew, Iona … and Winston … she would have found a way to get someone in here with or without that waiter at the hotel. Besides, she made the calls well before she even left the premises."

Iona stood stock-still staring in embarrassed awe at the bedridden detective. He swallowed hard and wished the ground would simply open up and do the same as the hard lump which lodged deeply in the hole that had been his throat.

"Go home." Danny used his chin to aim towards the door beyond the man's left shoulder. "Get some rest and move on, Iona. This is bigger than you and what happened was completely out of your control. It's not your fault."

Danny sighed tiredly because they'd all nearly lost. His temper flared and then sizzled out as quickly as it had come because he was tired and the truth was written in black and white for everyone to see. He tried to offer Iona a smile but his final words meant the most to the harried young man. "Hell, a lot of what happened in that damned plane proves it was even bigger than what we expected and out of anyone's control from the very start. "

Refusing to give him the opportunity or find the need to respond, Danny scrunched down more comfortably in the hospital bed. He let those final words hover meaningfully between them. By the time he closed his eyes to truly rest, a bewildered Iona had shuffled from the room.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	23. Chapter 23

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

 

"He's coming around now."

Al heard the words and wondered not only whom was speaking, but also who the person was talking about. It wasn't until he weakly coughed and a sharp pain stabbed his throat, spreading down to shake the core of his chest that he realized it was him. A stunned wheeze conversely sent small knife-like pains traveling upwards from the base of his neck to the very crown of his head.

_He'd been hurt .. he'd been shot in the trauma room of a large hospital._

"Al? Mr. Tortorro?" Another voice, this one female, gently spoke near his ear as he struggled to understand what was happening. The voice was soft and lilting, but was not that of the dark-haired Asian officer and for a moment, he uncharacteristically felt a pang of very real fear. In the background and just at the fringes of consciousness, more voices busily hummed. Darker voices in deep conversation causing him to mentally retreat and not respond to the closer, gentler encouraging tone. Instead, his blood pressure spiked and his newly freed respiration sputtered sloppily.

"Doctor, his vitals are not stabilizing."

Al heard that, too. The ongoing conversation wasn't precisely calming, however it did serve to give him some flicker of hope that he was at least out of any immediate danger. His brother's definition of danger. Doctors meant hospitals and the soothing female voice most naturally would indicate a nurse ... medical professionals and not his brother's continued subterfuge. There could be another attempt and that was an ongoing risk. But it wasn't then .. it wasn't now.

"Give him a chance." The doctor was a steady force, and standing across from the nurse. Even with his eyes closed, Al could sense that based on his hearing alone. "He's doing well; let's wait him out before over-reacting."

Eyes tightly shut, Al fought to simply breathe as his badly wounded body argued the task. Any task. "Al, try to open your eyes for us." His mind's eye pictured a dark-haired nurse nearly the mirror-image of the Asian officer. Someone once more exceedingly patient and much too kind for the likes of him.

"Al, you're at Tripler Army Medical Center and in the intensive care unit. Everything's fine .. can you open your eyes?"

He tried at that continued professional plea now vaguely recalling the assassin sent to end his life. He'd been shot three times, any one of which should have killed him outright. Other than his pure obstinacy and tenacious luck, the doctors were amazed at his slow progress as they cautiously took him off life support and tried now to encourage him along even further.

"When can he be moved?" It was a new voice. Male, aggressive and overly demanding which snapped Al from his physical focus and sapped any resolve he had been squirreling away to comply with the nurse. Once more, out of his own control, his breathing faltered badly and this time, a bell chimed in serious warning.

"Get out of this room." He assumed the angry drawl to be that of the doctor. Regardless of the criminal's sins, the doctor took his oath seriously and someone was severely disrupting his patient's fragile health. "Now. Leave."

"You're fine, Al. Just think about breathing more slowly." Al instantly felt the slender, cool fingers settle on his wrist. Around him, activity increased exponentially and at a very threatening rapid pace. Voices rose and fluctuated in the room as if personally waiting to attack him in order to truly finish what his brother had vowed. But that fate was never delivered though he flinched away from a rising crescendo which suddenly collapsed into itself as if power was flash-cut at its source.

The silence was nearly as startling and he raggedly sucked in tiny threads of air through the oxygen mask. Cold sweat laced his forehead to trail down his temples and trickle to dissolve into the thin pillow. He dimly noticed that the slender fingers had remained fastened to his wrist as someone else rustled busily near his head. Moments later, a warm lethargy seeped through his bloodstream to proactively calm his racing heart and soothe his breathing.

"Al, it's okay now. Our FBI friends are gone for the moment so you can rest." The disgust was evident in the nurse's voice. But where Al might have tried to force his eyes open before, the drugs certainly wouldn't allow that monumental effort to even be much more than a fleeting consideration now. He was being sent back to sleep and he accepted that option blindly ... almost greedily as he avoided reality to buy himself more time.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Now in his private room, Danny had been encouraged to make slow and steady sojourns in order to get back on his feet. Slightly hunched over and wearing a poor excuse of material for a robe, he shuffled carefully along in nubby-bottomed socks. He was on the same floor as Chin and Steve, too. So, without a doubt, one of his first trips was to make his way to where Denton had hidden away his wayward, exhausted partner to check on things for himself.

The shuffle-walk was farther than he thought though, and Danny was tired when he got there. Still, he twitched the sheet out of the way responding to the sight of the cast with a sincere mix of sympathy and amazement. But also a bubble of laughter which came out of his mouth like a rushed chuckle of air. To not jar his side, he wrapped his arm tightly against the bandages as it happened a second time.

"What the hell?" Whispering, Danny bit his lip and then shook his head. He wanted to thump on the mold or even touch it to make sure he wasn't seeing things. With an effort he dropped his hand and abstained from doing either. "Well, I for one can't wait to hear what you think of this. Though knowing you, you asked for it yourself." His whisper was barely audible as Steve slightly stirred in the bed.

He watched carefully for more, but Steve stilled just as quickly. It gave him time to survey the cast with a morose expression. Oddly out of all of them, Steve would be inconvenienced the longest and that included everything from driving to swimming to showering, not to mention just being able to find a comfortable position in bed. "Damn." Danny whispered while running a free hand through his hair.

Danny knew about any multitude of knee injuries and outcomes as his past problem was diagnosed and corrected. What Denton had done was impressive but standard for proper healing. What he couldn't quite get over though was the camouflage patterned fiberglass casting tape. Swirls of dark green, patterned lighter greens, mustard, brown and even a dash of yellow swarmed over the cast, leaving virtually no other empty space.

"Convenient. You'll match any pair of cargoes you own ... plus be ready for jungle games at the drop of a hat." Trying to keep his voice low and find some humor in what had happened, Danny sniffed back the mildly amused bubble of air. He wound up coughing, then wincing at the painful pull it caused. Despite that, Danny did a double take and rubbed his eyes against tears of laughter before taking up a seat in the wheelchair Denton had left so much earlier in the room. His smile eventually faded as he sat and waited impatiently though for Steve to do something.

"Looking at my four walls was only slightly better than this if you're just going to lay there." His complaint nearly mirrored Steve's much earlier one about himself. But Danny couldn't remember when they'd actually had last talked .. not really. It might have been sometime before he'd stepped foot on the plane with Al Tortorro, Kono and the other portion of the small contingent. Some few minutes before the short island hop was supposed to have been so easily accomplished.

It might have been something about Grace or even something ridiculous about Kamekona's latest creative shrimp dish. Danny simply couldn't remember though and he was too tired, too preoccupied to even try to remember now. The transfer was supposed to have been an easy courtesy amongst three authoritative peers: the members of Five-0, the few FBI and the even fewer members of the police department.

Closing his eyes, for no reason at all Danny suddenly winced at the remembered  _feeling_  of the plane crash. It was still continuing to take his breath away. There had been fractured dreams, which he readily accepted as normal and they were fading. But every so often something would trigger the feelings of vertigo, a helpless free-fall of which there was no escape, and then the terrifying, violent cart-wheel of noise and  _feelings_  where one solid mass connected with an even more resistant blackly solid mass.

"Damn it." Danny muttered under his breath for an entirely different reason. The deafening resonant memory of the noise was virtually gone now, but the jarring indescribable thud-like  _feeling_  persisted. He had to struggle to find a distraction and all he could do was measure each corner of the near barren space. The small room where Steve was sleeping was more large examination than formal hospital room. It clearly lacked many normal hospital room amenities. Basic counter space, shelving and locked cupboards ranged the walls. The room was dimmed and there was no natural light whatsoever.

He blinked and swore to himself as his body shuddered involuntarily at a remembered trauma. Wondering briefly if Kono had the same issues, Danny glanced at Steve and then forced himself to think of anything else which could serve as a distraction.

"At least I have a window." He resentfully sniped next when he noticed that the room didn't even have a television available. He was losing again though as he wiped his face, annoyed when he found it coldly damp.

Balancing his chin on the palm of his hand, Danny leaned on the wheelchair's arm rest and stared at Steve before slouching back in fatigue. He moved too fast and flinched as he pulled the stitches in his side. Hissing at the deep ache he'd caused himself, he closed his eyes to ride out the spark of pain until he could try to relax back more gently in the chair. It left him feeling more exhausted than before and he was deciding then to leave when Steve shifted significantly in the bed. In seconds, his eyes shot open to stare at the ceiling collapsing nearly instantly into confusion. Danny watched the antics of the instant frown, followed by the hard face palm and disgusted groan when Steve tried to move his lower half.

"Good morning." Unable to hold his amusement at bay, Danny snarked happily as the badly mussed head rolled his way. "Well, not really. It's a little later than morning." For a moment, there was no recognition since Steve's mind was a murky and slow place from the deep rest he'd been having. He stared hard at Danny while his frown only deepened in bewilderment. Not a word, sound or question was asked as he tried to understand what was going on.

Instead, Steve closed his eyes only to reopen them to stare up at the bland white acoustical tiles on the ceiling. Inside, he was slowly assessing his body and how he was feeling while organizing a series of blindingly white disjointed images.

"Hospital, Steven." Danny's grin grew as he prodded him more awake with even more interesting buzzwords. "TAMC, Tortorro. Wakey, wakey, partner, it's time for you to go home."

"What?" Continuing to frown, that one thing was all he could bring himself to say. For the life of him, he didn't know where he was or why Danny was so happily leering at him from a wheelchair. His eyes examined Danny's white robe and then the black wheels on the small wheelchair before finding Danny's face again. He couldn't recall what he last remembered doing. Only tiny snippets of colors and fragmented images were starting to make their way through, but he was failing at finding a conceivable answer.

Steve's entire universe had changed.

It only worsened when he tried to move again and found his left leg heavily unresponsive. Shifting onto his elbows, Steve looked down as Danny stood once more on shaky legs to helpfully flick the sheet back. Instead of looking at the cast first, Steve eyed the hospital robe and grown which did more to jostle his memory of the Tortorro incident than Danny's shortly spouted explanation.

"Danny. Why are you here?" He managed to get his partner's name out and then another few syllables as his voice gained strength. "Tortorro. What happened?" Hesitating too long to ask the right questions, Steve was interrupted by a simple explanatory comment. His eyes dropped to his left leg and he frowned at a barely remembered discussion with a doctor, scowling in displeasure when Doctor Denton's face flashed across his mind's eye.

"Shit." Steve could only come up with that one word as the dreaded cast became a reality. He'd been almost on his way out of the hospital which was the last thing he could accurately recall. "He did it. I passed out?"

"You dropped me, you did a number on your knee and yes .. yes, you did pass out." The joke about being dropped was old but Danny could not help himself for the funny, muddled thing which was his partner's brain. Steve's bottom lip jutted out petulantly along with the deepening creases around his eyes which wouldn't quit for miles. He was sure that wasn't quite right and besides, Danny was grinning much too comically.

"No." He scowled at Danny's smile, but wound up studying the slouched position and weary eyes as Danny sank carefully back down into the wheelchair. His friend was sweating, still sick and perhaps not precisely permitted to be out of a hospital bed. Steve thumbed his own bed more upright and then slowly levered himself into a better seated position. It was an awkward struggle and a very uncomfortable chore, but Steve eventually got it accomplished.

"I didn't drop you ... not once. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in bed?" The questions came unbidden as Steve jogged his memory back into life. Two of his team should have been in the ICU with another in a private room. Danny for one, had been ill, feverish and definitely bedridden from what he could last recall.

"You passed out eighteen hours ago." Danny offered quite unhelpfully. "You my friend, have not moved a single muscle in over eighteen very long, very tedious hours."

"That's impossible." Allowing the change in subject, Steve chuffed in disbelief. But he narrowed his eyes at the sincerity in Danny's expression to renew the question. "Really? Eighteen?"

"Really. Eighteen hours." Danny confirmed. "Kono's already been released and Chin is next. Unless of course, you decide you're ready to actually stay awake and string together maybe more than one or two whole words that make sense. Usually proper care of oneself allows for that sort of thing. Food, water, rest .. .things that normal human beings typically do for themselves. And to warn you, Keanu Iona is just waiting for the word to step in and help."

The rant was wordy yet mild, and Steve watched as Danny sank lower into the wheelchair. In all of that time, it was obvious too that Danny had been at least moved from intensive care unit to a private room. He'd come to visit and had evidently had already done too much. Despite Steve's slower than usual perceptive capabilities, he was now catching on in spades as his eyes flickered across Danny's seated body to settle on his face while he continued to prattle on tiredly.

"I must say ... it's stylish." Danny was wryly noting about the cumbersome cast. The camo colored tape was not what Steve had expected and he scarcely remembered even seeing it so many hours ago. It was a joke played on him by a very amusing orthopedic TAMC surgeon. Currently though, it was entertaining his partner more than he.

"Always prepared. I am incredibly impressed with you always being so .. very prepared," Danny added. Then there was a wince he couldn't quite hide nor a delicate tightening of his free hand near his injured side. Danny was better, but not quite. The humor too was there, but the tempest still lingered.

"Well prepared." Danny concluded, as he seemingly used up not only all of his words but the last available weary breath in his lungs.

"Danny. How long have you been sitting here?" Steve scowled at the pasty complexion he could now see more clearly. With his hand, he snared the remote and glanced down quickly to thumb the right button to request help. He couldn't quite get up with a simple ease as of yet; in short, they both needed a few strong professional hands.

"By the way, you mean the Coast Guard." While waiting, Steve rose to the occasion to correct his partner's flubbed comment. "Semper paratus, Danny. U.S. Coast Guard. That's them,  _always prepared._  What you're looking for is ' _the only easy day was yesterday'_."

There was a long pregnant moment of silence as Danny pursed his lips together. "Oh." The amused noise worked in tandem with Danny's eyebrows which raised at that telling tidbit. "Really?"

The grin found itself quickly to one side of Steve's lip because he heard it coming before it was even said out loud.

"Well that makes perfect sense then, Steve. Only because you slept through it."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	24. Chapter 24

**5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

 

Pure hatred spurned her forward while a formal unyielding edict guided her life. Hatred aimed at the assassin who had failed so badly, and then that times ten for her uncle who refused to simply die. Once her father's people had confirmed the ultimate failure, Angel Tortorro had rudely sent his daughter back to personally settle the score.

Herself.  _Alone_  where another failure would not be accepted in any form whatsoever.

Andrea Winston was all about using people and situations to her benefit and she rarely lost. If she had any feelings at all, they were only for her father's approval because she had her own plans. She had her own empire to foster and other important people to impress. She would ride on his coattails and cater to his needs for just so long.

She arrived on a regular flight from Los Angeles with impressive falsified credentials as a clothing designer and secret access to a great deal of funds. The construction site where Douglas Pratt's poor wife had been imprisoned covertly included a hidden locker of weaponry which she wasn't certain yet of needing to actually use. What she would be using with her desperately limited time, was the family's boat harbored nicely on the North Shore.

Her first stop was the ladies restroom at the airport where she changed her clothes for a third time. She had changed upon arriving at LAX and before departing for Hawaii. She changed again on the plane after accidentally spilling her drink in coach and now, to simple but obviously expensive tight black cropped pants, black lace tank and fashion sneakers. Besides the overly gothic-style clothing which she would have disdained as a professionally stylish Legal Assistant, she looked entirely different from her stint as Andrea Winston. Her hair had been blunt cut on the left and shaved down to the skin on the right. From its former pitch bluish-black color, what was now left was a white platinum.

Brilliant tattoos decorated one shoulder and another wrapped around her ankle. Usually working diligently to hide the art, this time she used it to her benefit as part of her newest, very temporary persona.

She would draw attention, but not from the people she wished to hide from who would be expecting an entirely different person. Those that did take time to notice her, either gaped in awe or avoided her like the very plague she was.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

"They're all the same. How can you have a favorite pair?" Danny chided Steve from his hospital bed. He had been physically removed from Steve's small recovery room while still seated in the wheelchair. Near to curling up into an exhausted fetal position without even being truly horizontal, he'd been chastised by not one, but two angry nurses.

Danny had been too tired to argue or even respond to Steve's concerned questions. He'd been gone only fifteen minutes, but it was ten minutes too long and he'd been missed as the time for his medications drew near. So in fact, their entire conversation had been terminated by Steve's earlier paging of the nurses' station for help which came at a nearly startling pace with dual perturbed attitudes to match. Believing the nurses would simply take care of his partner, Steve was stunned when his attempt at rising was also blithely negated until Doctor Denton arrived.

Two hours later, Steve finally stood in Danny's hospital room after having been forced fed a complete meal from the cafeteria, downing a protein drink, and assuring Denton through a number of formal tests that he was indeed, fine. His body had demanded food and was still making it known that more rest would be required .. and soon. A short stint with the physical therapist on using his crutches and maneuvering safely had irked Steve's temper when it drew on slowly recouping energy reserves, yet he had wisely held his tongue. Especially when Denton remained to ensure orders were followed and that his special long-term 'outpatient' was heeding sage advice. And truth be told, the full cast was going to prove to be quite the challenge over the next many weeks.

Steve had finally been officially released and had immediately sought out his partner's room regardless of promising to leave the premises. His mood was being tested again as a weary but playful expression remained plastered across Danny's face.

"They are not all the same." Steve groused in annoyance as a finger dramatically went through a former side pocket which had been neatly cut in two. The velcro remained but tiny threads hung haphazardly to tickle one knee. The pocket had become a major hole of contention to demonstrate his feelings now that he stood over his partner's bed.

The block of time had allowed Danny to virtually be inserted back under his own white sheets with the aid of the nurses who fussed and complained through his fluctuating vitals. He'd been on his feet too long, up too long, without his timely doses of medication for too long, and in desperate need of a real healing rest.

Shaky and truly tapped, he could only lean back to allow the fussing to wash over him like a soothing wave. Now medicated and once more comfortably situated back in his room, he was forbidden to get up without official approval. However, that idea was farthest from his mind.

Towards the latter half of those hours, Danny had finally stabilized and begun to doze. He had first woken to Steve's silent, but sternly measuring scrutiny with Keanu Iona not so surprisingly already in diligent attendance. Tiredly recognizing that Steve was now wearing street clothes and his newly designed cargo-wear, Danny's lips had twitched into a happy smile. However, once Steve seemed relatively satisfied with his partner's condition, the proverbial heated temperature had altered in the room.

Once more, Iona stood behind Steve except this time, the Commander was on his feet with the aid of crutches. Blustery in indignation, he balanced precariously and Iona found himself prepared to catch him as he had the gall to take one crutch completely off the floor. Raggedly cut camp-like  _shorts_  were expertly trimmed to ride just above his knees ... and the man was nearly irate.

"They look .. good." Danny was beaming through his exhaustion while Steve glowered angrily down at him. "But seriously, you know that they are all the same!"

"Sir, please." Iona muttered with both hands outstretched as Steve pointed loudly with the rubber-soled bottom of the crutch. Iona had been with Sergeant Lukela when paged back to the hospital to retrieve Steve. He'd returned with the Commander's pickup truck so he could stretch out across the rear bench seat, and was well prepared to take him home or wherever he wished to go. But what was happening now was an exasperating outcome of the detective's special garment alterations.

"Sir!" Iona tried again as one crutch skidded slightly on the linoleum floor, yet the other remained elevated in mid-air. There was a stunning hop and staggering tilt as Steve momentarily lost his balance. The young officer grabbed an elbow to help steady him with a much louder reprimand as his own heart thudded in his chest. "Commander, please, two hands."

He was ignored entirely though as Steve's voice raised louder to put substance behind his complaint. Fearfully, Iona winced and mumbled incoherently as the airborne crutch moved wildly in the direction of the bedridden detective.

"I can NOT believe you did this!" Eyes laughing, Danny merely shrugged at the ongoing tirade. He was pleased with the job he'd done solely by eye with Steve's knife. The new cargo 'shorts' were a bit thready around the edges, but evenly matched just above Steve's knees. Danny had even hacked a small slit in the side for ease in pulling them up over the astronomically large cast which even he was still mesmerized with. The compliment of camo-patterned casting tape to the light green khaki cargo 'shorts' was impeccable in its perfection.

"How can you be mad when they match your lovely camo-wrapped cast? You sure as hell never would have gotten them on." He snickered then because he simply couldn't help himself. "And ... well, they are a perfect match!"

Doctor F.A. Denton was a genius of a very special kind. What he did completely complimented Danny's own surprise gift and it hadn't even been planned.

The end result had mortified Keanu Iona. It left Steve McGarrett continually stunned to his core. But it delighted Danny Williams to no obvious end. He couldn't wait for both Chin and Kono to see it first-hand.

"Too bad no one can sign it though. The cast that is." Danny's last drawled comment resulted in an utterly disgusted expression. "However, you can still do stealthy undercover Ninja work. No fuss, no muss."

"It's not funny, Danno. I could have bought a pair of nice shorts without you ruining these. In fact, I probably have a few already handy!" Steve was still tired, on edge and not in the mood for jokes. The ornate cast was one thing but the second insult rendered him speechless. He had stared dumbly at his once whole pair of pants while seated on the edge of the gurney. Not expecting to see what he  _saw_  ... he didn't quite understand what had happened at first. With zero choices in the matter, he'd yanked them on over the cast, cursing his rather inventive partner the entire time. With the assistance of a male nurse, one boot had followed on his good foot but Steve hadn't missed the coy smiles or barely stifled cackles from under the man's breath.

Cocking both crutches firmly under his arm, he rubbed his hand shakily over his face. He didn't see the piercing look from Danny to Iona with the unspoken orders to take the still very emotionally and physical exhausted man home.

"How was I supposed to know you had an entire camo summer ensemble?" Despite the silent demand which Iona was now anxious to put into action, Danny was in full snark mode. "Besides, your other clothes aren't here so what help would have that have been? You should be thanking me for planning ahead."

" _Thanking_  you!" Steve's eyes widened in disbelief as the lone crutch once more left the safety of the tiled linoleum. "What  _ensemble_!"

"Maybe we should go?" Iona cleared his throat nervously at his softly voiced suggestion. "Now, Sir."

Closing his eyes patiently as the voices raised in tandem, he wished he were anywhere except in the same room as the two partners.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The muse wants details .. so I give it details ... I do as I'm told! (sometimes). I'm learning to trust the darn muse more and more, so I hope you all like this chapter. Happy Father's Day to all the dads. :-)

**5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

 

Andrea went immediately to the hotel where Pratt's wife had been hidden away. Buried in corporate legal jargon and documentation, the property was owned by a holding company once more buried under reams of red tape which would eventually trace back to the Tortorro family. It was something which Duke had proven, but it meant little after they'd recovered Trish Pratt in one whole piece. HPD would watch the property as it drew their awareness now. Yet, overall, nothing would or could be done without catching any criminal activity while it was in progress. Even the small base of employees seemed untouchable after interviews and the beginnings of investigations which were leading nowhere. In short, the few employees were seemingly ignorant of anything except their paychecks that came steadily enough despite the partial ruin caused by the ongoing construction which was such an antithesis to the small renovated half.

So Andrea went there now. Unrecognized as one of its powerful owners, she checked in under her alias to the renovated wing before covertly navigating through the outer parking lot to casually sneak into the construction site.

As she entered, she was careful but didn't fear being seen, discovered or coming face to face with any workers as she traipsed through to its inner core. Weeks could go by without any activity at all being conducted at the site. It was a schedule that she could control at her whim, and she had done so before departing L.A. so that her father's orders could be carried out  _her way._ Actual renovations had been going on for nearly a year by that point; possibly even longer. The large majority of work though was a total sham and a well-orchestrated cover for other illicit activity being managed by either herself or her father, Angel Tortorro. There was just so much longer that they would be able to continue the facade based upon a disgusted community and city officials mentally tired of seeing the perpetual white elephant. Bribes, payoffs and other kick-backs would go so far once the public outcry escalated, so the Tortorro's were already ramping up to move on. Until then though, the property continued to be an ideal location on the island housing a few interesting commodities in case of emergency.

A special key opened a faux door to a larger room where another set of keys gave access to her choice of supplies; including a few weapons, drugs, an odd array of disguises, and a variety of eclectic clothing which she rummaged through with purpose. A pack was soon made up of her selections and then she was off again to a rear exit where a lone, simple motorcycle sat waiting for use. Andrea grinned happily as she unlocked that rear door and left the building. Leaving things as she'd found them with a sound evil sensibility, she manually pushed the bike down the junk filled alley before she flipped the helmet on and revved the engine.

Not one to wait, this time she also couldn't afford to as she honed in on Tripler Army Medical Center, its local streets and points of egress. There was only one chance this time for certain and she couldn't afford to be unprepared. She gave herself no more than fourteen hours as she put her particular reconnaissance into motion for those later afternoon hours. It would continue well into the evening, after which, she would act without hesitation.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Laying in a miserable, rumpled heap on his sofa, Steve sighed loudly. He was already disgustedly exasperated after Keanu Iona had dropped him off at his house. Not in actual pain, the issue was the nearly six weeks of pending inconvenience, without which, he'd be in serious dire straits since the injury was nothing to be toyed with so casually. The young officer was currently doing the same for Chin, also using Steve's truck for its general ease in having space for bruised limbs and wounded egos.

Kono had been home a full day by that point, too, but Danny was a good two days behind in having that luxury granted. Facing the experience of his team once again splintered into individual units irked and unsettled him no end, but there was nothing to be done about it. The supposedly simple mission had nearly been their undoing and Steve worried that it wasn't yet truly over. Like Iona and Danny, Steve also sensed something pending with the FBI. There was little doubt that the atmosphere had changed .. _their relationship had changed_  .. from what had been so neatly presented at the missions' onset.

"Of course." Steve muttered under his breath. His feelings were irrelevant in a place where there was no room for emotion. But because they were all physically suffering, Steve allowed them to creep in as he lay on his back and gazed at his ceiling. At least for a few short minutes of pure selfishness.

"They'll take over and be done with it all." He noted to no one in particular. "Once he's cleared to travel, he's gone." He snorted to himself because two weeks ago, Five-0 and HPD had both been needed then. Those initial pleasantries had now faded as quickly as the originally sweet plea for help. With that thought, Steve fought against the bleak replay of he and Chin surveying the downed plane half buried in rough surf. It had been bad and still was simply put .. bad. The entire mission from the start had been an enormous debacle. Yet no matter how the FBI was beginning to conduct themselves, only Danny and Kono had managed to keep  _their_  special federal charge alive.

"Let them have him." Steve tiredly insisted to an empty room. He didn't need their thanks. He only needed his team whole. The shift in attitude to a raw coldness was the FBI moving on completely having expended their peers' combined usefulness. The rudeness was unnecessary but in a way, expected because of the FBI's continued sharp focus. Where Five-0 and HPD could and should take a permanent backseat to the affair, the FBI was wholly required to maintain their undivided attention at keeping Al Tortorro alive. By that very night, Steve welcomed them to the task. Let them take Al Tortorro at their whim and let them take on the rest of the powerful Tortorro family so that HPD and Five-0 could be also done with it.

But if three agencies working in conjunction had nearly failed, Steve's face darkened considerably because one solitary agency working alone certainly still might. He realized then that Duke Lukela also knew that. It was the reason for the continued HPD presence which was just enough to prove an astute awareness. The realization made him smile and Steve slightly relaxed as he mentally tallied up the favors he was going to wind up owing the older officer.

Almost happy, a pleased chuckle eked out from his chest.  _Keanu Iona, personal assistant._

"Good man, Duke." Steve finally had to laugh out loud at the sergeant's depth of resourcefulness. Guilty about not calling Rachel, Danny had easily put his mind at ease since Iona had helped there, too. Duke had thought of everything and Steve was now very glad he'd given Iona his truck keys and a credit card to gas up the vehicle for the various ad hoc errands his team would undoubtedly continue to demand. Having Iona at his beck and call was already proving to be a nice perk and Steve, once again, would need to thank Duke for the loan despite its other intended purpose. In fact, at his next opportunity, Steve had already instructed Iona to bring his office equipment home. Something that was again nearly wordlessly accepted by the intimidated newly graduated officer. Steve knew that Iona felt the chores were abysmal lessons for a severe error in judgment, however he was soon to be indispensable.

Draping his arm over his face, Steve grinned at that truth. "Poor kid." He laughed again to himself. Iona wasn't shy, but he certainly was naturally reserved and extremely serious. Only the facial expressions not caught in time were giving away his momentary discomfort as he diligently puttered from task to task. Whomever had set the bar high had taught Iona almost too well and Steve had to wonder if he even relaxed in the sanctuary of his own home.

Using both hands, Steve manually repositioned his leg on the sofa. He growled at the sight of the camo-wrapped cast for the monstrosity that it was. Only then though did he purse his lips in amusement about his newest pair of shorts. He was going to not only keep them, but he would wear them every day. Every single day that he could for the entire six weeks worth of time. And then, for kicks, he might even continue to wear them just to irritate his partner's general sense of dignity.

"We'll see who wins this game, Danno." Steve rubbed his face tiredly. But he was smiling from ear to ear. With all of those thoughts skittering away, Steve dozed and then fell asleep peacefully on his sofa knowing that the sturdy piece of furniture would likely become a fairly permanent bed of sorts for the foreseeable future.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

"Who's here!" His shout woke him even more as his hand automatically reached for a weapon that wasn't there. "Hey!"

Half off the sofa, Steve had to force his breathing to calm while he listened to every nocturnal sound which reached his ears from the lanai and open kitchen window. Nothing was wrong and no one was there. Yet he had a persistent feeling of being watched as he woke in a cold sweat to a darkened room and for a moment, he was completely disoriented.

"Damn it." He mumbled softly as the feeling slowly dissipated, glaring at the bottle of medication only lit by moonlight on the coffee table. He stared at the tiny bottle and blamed it until he realized he hadn't taken a dose.

Something else had woken him, yet as he searched a musty memory, he wasn't remembering a dream. Steve reached for his crutches before clambering carefully to his feet. The feeling had lessened, but he cautiously walked the lower level of his house in the dark to check each room and then, the lanai.

Of course there was no one there, yet the strange feeling wouldn't leave him and he forcibly had to unclench fists which had tightened around each crutch's small handle.

_Something was wrong._

Steve returned to the living room where he fumbled one-handed for his cell phone which Iona had set just within reach on the coffee table.

The feeling lurked and mimicked that old nasty, mental itch he'd experienced as he drove to Tripler that fateful hour after landing the borrowed HPD chopper. Once again, his hair prickled and his nerves refused to settle as the feeling gnawed menacingly at the base of his skull. He rubbed at it hard enough to sting his neck until it turned a bright crimson as he speed-dialed Danny first.

"Come on, come on." Unable to pace, Steve jiggled the phone in his hand. It was eleven o'clock in the evening. Late but not too late for an ad hoc call to his bedridden partner who likely would be up because no one ever got true rest in a hospital. The call rang incessantly and Steve began to doubt his reasoning as he let it ring through to voicemail. Even on silent, it would vibrate and Danny would answer .. he would know .. yet it went to voicemail. Dialing a second time, he hesitated only for a split second before committing to letting it also ring through to the end.

He could apologize later if he was truly disturbing Danny .. and make a joke of it if nothing was truly wrong. "Come on. Pick up." Worried now, Steve was sure his strange keening meant something. The lack of an answer this second time rankled nerves newly frayed and he switched to Keanu Iona's private number.

When that too went unanswered, Steve was battling his cast and his intuition as he anxiously reach out to Duke Lukela.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	26. Chapter 26

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

 

Danny wandered the hallway at his same slow pace not knowing that Steve was suffering from a min-meltdown of sorts in his own living room. Anxious, fully spontaneous calls were being made to HPD and would be soon made to the hospital. Danny had slept for hours but had been woken by a bona-fide nightmare littered with violent end-over-end images of light and dark. So vivid was the danger combined with the frightening pictures of the plane crash, he'd instantly gotten out of bed to stand like a bewildered sweaty statue in the middle of the dimly lit room. One of the nurses had found him a few seconds later, easily accepting his need to move based solely on his brooding expression.

So as his partner made lone demands, Danny walked belligerently up and down the same dull corridor with an incessant purpose until the sweat dried on his face and the images drifted away along with the vibration in his hands. He walked until the same nurse blocked his path when he began to shake from a muscular fatigue coupled with a visual hunch in his posture.

"Alright, buster. Enough is enough." Danny didn't know her name as he silently allowed her to guide him back to his room where a fresh cup of hot tea sat steaming on the side tray table.

"You didn't need to do that," Danny ruefully grinned as he eased back down. But his only reply was the small cup being plunked into his hands. "But .. thank you." She smiled warmly and left without another word, pleased when he obediently relaxed with a genuine appreciative sigh.

Not a tea drinker per se, Danny wasn't all that interested until the first sip which proved more soothing than he would have thought. His next pleasurable sip was audible because the nurse had been heavy on the sugar seeming to know that the taste would be an ultimate appeal for his stressed system. Sinking back even more, he took his time to finish the cup while listening to the nightly sounds of the few staff caring for other restless patients.

Fully calm now but not even remotely tired, Danny looked up as the nurse came back in gesturing to his cell phone which lay on the side table. "Commander McGarrett called the nurse's station. He's been trying to reach you."

Danny frowned as he reached for his phone and instantly made a thoughtful sound when he noticed the missed calls from Steve. A glance at the time confirmed he'd missed him during his late night stroll, but he was more confused by the lack of voicemail or text message. Then as soon as one finger touched the device, it was vibrating again.

"Hey?" Breathed out as a question, Danny was instantly interrupted by his frazzled partner who suddenly seemed more on edge and exhausted than ever before. "Steve...what's wrong?"

 _"Are you okay? Duke's on his way over."_  Steve was agitated and talking so fast that Danny nearly smiled if not for the genuine concern rippling over the airwaves.  _"I mean, where were you? You didn't pick up ... and neither did Iona."_

"I'm fine." Evidently the wrong person was asking the wrong question as Danny cautiously replied. "Are you okay?" Something had clearly spooked his partner as a loudly chuffed sound mixed with relief and confusion echoed in his ear. Danny began to wonder which of them had the bad dream when the irritated noises continued and he rechecked the time. It was nearing eleven thirty and completely out of character for his partner to be so clearly agitated so Danny offered more of an explanation. "Steve, I'm fine. I was walking in the hall and didn't bring my phone. I didn't see that you had called."

"What happened?" Cocking his head as if Steve could actually see him, Danny's question reflected his own concern. "Are you okay? You sound a bit ...  _off_."

 _"Off. Yeah, that's a good word for it."_  Steve muttered distantly. There was a rustling on the other side which was even more defined by a rough uncomfortable silence. Danny envisioned an apologetic face. Possibly even embarrassed as the rustling movement became a prolonged noisy fidget.

"Steve?" He poked, knowing that even for himself, after the startling terrified nature of his own dream, neither of them were in the mood for lighthearted jokes. But where Steve had been so desperate to reach him, he was reticent to actually speak and Danny found himself trying to draw his partner out more and more as the awkward silence droned on. "Hey, Steve. Everything is seriously okay here; but how are you doing? What happened .. what's going on? Why is Duke on his way over?"

 _"Nothing, Danny."_  Laced with a self-conscious weariness, Steve's voice was suddenly bleak and flat. Regardless of the unconscionable long sleep, he was still tired and completely out of sorts.  _"I thought something was wrong ... and thought the worst when I couldn't reach you."_

There was a pause before Steve quietly finished his brief explanation in a series of halting words.  _"Or, Iona. I couldn't reach him either but he's off duty. Duke's probably on his way for nothing. It's nothing and .. I'm good."_

It was hardly  _nothing_  though and it was apparent that by the last two stilted words, which were a definite after-thought, that Steve was quite far from being anywhere near  _good_. Danny's own unsettling mood had been nearly a mirror image of the tone he was hearing now just thirty minutes earlier. In fact, he would have likely voiced something quite similar had he had the opportunity to really verbalize his feelings when they'd been so fresh in his mind.

"Get some rest, Steve." Danny winced through his suggestion expecting a smart reply, which didn't come. "It's late and we're all tired." Instead, the erratic shuffled noises preceded an agreeable murmur. The conversation wrapped on that short note and Danny ended the call only after Steve managed to grunt a brief affirmative which still clearly said he was worried, distracted and likely not to get much rest at all.

Frowning all over again, Danny stared at his phone where it rested in his lap. The call had brought him full circle back to his remembered waking state where he'd been so ill at ease. When he'd been so disoriented and tense, that he'd felt something indeed was terribly wrong. That something was going to happen .. something ...  _bad_  ... and it was nearly on their doorstep.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Andrea took her time with a deliberate ease even though a mental clock was steadily ticking down. She piloted her small bike in and out of traffic, taking note of two direct routes from the hospital and on to the marina. There, she roused a lazy captain to remind him of their plans to leave the marina within hours.

Then she retraced her tracks to do it again using alternate routes with particular points to hide as needed. Mileage, time, number of intersections and side roads were all committed to memory. By the time she finished her street savvy reconnaissance, dusk was falling and she was hungry.

Taking a small tertiary road which placed her in a parking lot adjacent to the rear of TAMC, she left her bike hidden amongst the shrubbery. Virtually on hands and knees, Andrea hunkered down to wind her way through the tight thicket so she could examine the hospital.

"It's perfect." She remarked, pleased with her plans and options which would easily keep her many steps ahead of what would undoubtedly be coming. Andrea was ready. All she needed now was entrance to TAMC and access to her ill uncle.

Crawling backwards, she took her pack and left on foot crossing the neighboring lot to a more popular street lined with casual restaurants. Her choice was within walking distance of the hospital, had more than decent selections of food options, and afforded her both a view of the peaceful sunset plus a place to change her clothing for her final disguise.

Andrea took her time to stay at her table completely undisturbed in her private retreat. Upon paying her bill though, a critical portion of her plan was put into motion with a loud feminine gasp followed by a startling crash of glass on ceramic.

"I'm so sorry." Andrea's faked humility was genuine to the kind waiter that she'd not so quite accidentally barreled into on her way out of the restaurant. Her well-orchestrated trip sent her plummeting into his chest, knocking over his tray and soaking both of them with wine, soft drinks and appetizers.

Mortified, he helped her up to vainly dab at her clothes. "I can change. It's okay if I can please just clean up in the back?" Andrea insisted while thrusting her pack between them as a wall to force him back. "Really, it's not a big deal."

"Yes, of course!" He practically fell into her arms with appreciation as she seemed to take it all in stride with a lilting laugh. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened ... I was ... I thought ... Please, change back here."

"It's fine! No harm done." Her breathy laugh about her ruined travel clothes helped silence him as he showed her the small employee bathroom.

"Thanks again." Andrea reassured him with a smile. Shutting the door in his reddened face, her own morphed into a serious frown of disgust.

"Damned locals." She whispered, stripping off clothes completely. Using handfuls of paper towels, she cleaned up soiled skin before dressing quickly into something neater and more average.

Moving with purpose, a cropped blonde wig followed along with newly applied fresh makeup. Neither the waiter nor that restaurant would ever see her again as she snuck out the rear alley door. A casual toss of her pack, which now held her old ruined clothing fell into the closest dumpster, leaving her hands almost free. Because for all that simple ease, two small syringes, a burner cell phone, and a pistol were hidden on her person.

Andrea smiled as she made her way down the sidewalk. She missed the few complimentary looks for the dangerous rehearsal going on in her head. Engrossed as she was, Andrea only stopped to gaze at the main entrance from under a street light. It was well dark now and she grinned while checking the time.

She was about to cross the street when an HPD cruiser entered the lot ahead of her. Two more followed and she cursed under her breath. Staying where she was, Andrea glared angrily at the older HPD officer she recognized so well.

"Damn, damn, damn." She felt her temper rising as she watched five officers enter the hospital. She would need to wait to assess the unanticipated as she was forced to recheck the time.

Rapidly coming to a new conclusion, Andrea glowered in a fury from the opposite sidewalk as she carefully contacted her captain at the marina with a new estimate. She could still well use her mapped points of escape. However, her best option to enter the facility would happen more towards dawn as hospital shifts changed and people's guards came down.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	27. Chapter 27

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

 

"Danny." Duke strode into the hospital room with all five of his officers ranging around him. For the size of the group, they entered relatively quietly though they rightly anticipated Danny being awake. Calls to TAMC and to TAMC security had been made prior to their arrival, he knew things were quiet, and yet Duke persisted in order to be absolutely certain. "Everything okay here?"

Eyebrows comically raised, Danny snorted at the formality of the impressive contingent brought to his bedside likely by only a neurotic dream. However in a large way, he was relieved not only by the distraction, but also pacified by HPD's trust regardless of the end result. "Fine, Duke. You didn't need to bring the whole force out in the middle of the night."

Duke responded with a bland shrug. Having experienced too many wrongs himself with the mission, he had no qualms about offering additional support even if it turned into a brief waste of time. "Steve seemed to think something might happen." Duke needlessly offered. Standing near the foot of the bed, he put Danny under a veritable microscope which almost made the recovering man squirm uncomfortably.

Continuing to make it obvious that he wasn't entirely happy about Danny's condition, Duke gestured first inside the room and then wider, as if taking in the entire hospital. "We'll check things out and make our presence known. There's no problem with one or two of us staying until this is all truly over."

For some reason, Danny instantly quieted as way of agreement. He wanted to innately make a joke of the situation but was utterly unable to kickstart even a lighthearted comment. They all seemed to concur in fact as they exchanged pleasantries before leaving in ones and twos to wander the halls and stairwells. Only Duke remained behind to speak to Danny longer about the FBI and Al Tortorro in a bit more depth.

"I don't even know if he's still in the ICU." Danny admitted with a circumspect glance towards the quiet hallway. He was beginning to have his doubts as each hour ticked by and the FBI became more insular. "Maybe you can find out. Iona had no luck whatsoever with them."

"So I heard." Grinning broadly, Duke folded his arms tightly across his chest. "How's he doing?"

The answering smile was one of distinct approval and Duke nodded like a proud father which made Danny curiously raise a single eyebrow in askance. "Top of his class." Duke explained with true pride. "He's going to be one of the best if I can whip him into shape. He's overly serious about his work but he's got good instincts."

"I'm not sure Steve wants to give him back. I know his assignment hasn't been particularly challenging but he's become indispensable." Danny noted while intentionally digging his shoulders carefully into the pillow just behind his neck. The snarked comment resulted in a rude disbelieving puff of air which echoed in the room.

"Seriously, Duke." Interrupting a possible reply, Danny continued with a lop-sided thoughtful tilt to the side of his mouth. He rarely was in a position to goad the wise officer and he took a bit of joy as dark eyes narrowed to show a bit of incredulous mistrust.

The frowned squint continued as they silently regarded each other for a moment and Danny had to suppress a chuckle. For once, Duke truly didn't know if he might be kidding or not. "We all kinda like having him around."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Hours later the smile had long departed Danny's face and he was wishing that none of them had become so lax as night became dawn. Of the five, only one officer had remained until relieved even of that seemingly senseless task.

But now, Danny was painfully hunched over and ignoring the terrible pull in his side which he sensed was going to be a future issue as something hotly shifted and inaudibly popped.

"Iona. Just look at me, pal." Danny was on his knees just inside the doors to the ICU. The frantic sounds of authoritative shouting and running feet surrounded where he crouched down by the young officer who had literally just saved his life.

"No!" He was yelling now too as adrenalin kept him focused and more aware than he should have been. Kono had taken off at a run after the female shooter at the first opportunity. The two FBI agents had been in her wake but that simply wasn't going to be good enough.

She was gone and Danny cursed under his breath as Iona's eyes began to close. The ICU was in an uproar but he needed help. _Kono needed help._

"Hey! No, Keanu .. Look at me. Just keep looking at me." Danny's demands and pleas were barely heeded though. Both of his hands were buried in the bloody shirt and Keanu's eyes kept sliding persistently closed. A few seconds later, Danny was sure that the young man had heard not a single word nor sensed the crazed level of activity swirling around them.

It was obvious by then that he even didn't know what had happened. Sitting slouched on the floor with his back against the wall, he stared at Danny's lips which were moving but, he heard absolutely nothing of the detective's voice.

Keanu frowned at the red liquid spilling out between his own abdomen and Danny's fingers. Something inside his brain told him that he should be in pain .. in significant pain based solely on what he was seeing stain his own ruined clothing. But besides being deaf, he was also experiencing a body-wide numbness. He was missing something else too and his frown deepened across his forehead where more blood stained his temple.

"Gun?" Keanu tried to speak but nothing came out of his mouth on his faint exhale. His free hand tried to tap the tile in order to find his weapon, but he was prevented by the man who crouched down next to him.

The man was Danny. For another frightening moment, Keanu didn't recognize him either as he totally forgot the Detective's name.

But Sergeant Lukela would kill him for sure if he lost his own weapon; and inside a military hospital nonetheless. He'd arrived near dawn after checking his phone for missed calls and messages. He'd missed a call from Steve hours earlier but had two voicemails in its place explaining the situation at Tripler. One from Sergeant Lukela and another from Kono Kalakaua. From the Sergeant, his orders were to relieve his bored peer who had stayed the long night. To compliment that, Kono was up early and asking for a ride to the same location in order to visit Danny and to possibly derive a status on Al Tortorro.

Keanu and Kono had shown up scarcely twenty minutes earlier with coffee and malasadas in hand. The single HPD officer had graciously accepted a free hot coffee but had departed quickly, wholly relieved to be done with the dull duties. Then Danny had immediately wanted to go along with them to the ICU though to meet the FBI agents for himself. Because as Iona had once tried, Duke had also failed in gaining any intelligence or access to the badly injured criminal in question.

Danny was positive now that Al Tortorro was gone. The two remaining FBI agents were a lingering ploy; a simple decoy to buy more time as they carefully moved a badly injured witness to either another hospital or a well-equipped safe house.

They had gone together to find out for certain. Now coffee and insulated paper cups haphazardly littered the hallway floor creating a slippery brown mess. The three hadn't found Al Tortorro; not even the original FBI agents for that matter.

Rather, they found someone completely unexpectedly different and only Keanu Iona had recognized the blonde-haired woman based upon profile, stance and then quality of voice alone.

From that incredibly short moment of joint recognition, all hell had broken loose.

Keanu's hearing continued to be a whiteout of static and fluctuating air waves. Confused and suddenly extremely cold, Keanu looked lazily back up into Danny's face. The wheelchair was gone, pushed away to roll somewhere else down the corridor and the detective was kneeling next to him in white hospital scrubs. It was entirely wrong and Keanu opened his mouth to question that ... that Danny shouldn't be on the floor in his condition. He shouldn't be anywhere but in the missing wheelchair since he was still recovering.

But those words never reached his lips as Keanu listed dangerously into a doll-like slump watching Danny's eyes take on a frightened, haunted look until he couldn't see anymore.

Pushed aside by the ICU staff, Danny slid into his own weakly seated position only leaning painfully over to retrieve the wounded officer's weapon from where it had skittered across the floor. Without thinking and unable to speak, he dismally watched them try to save Iona as he used his robe to wipe bloody fingers, startled when two sturdy hands lifted under his arms from above.

"Come on, Detective, let's get you out of here." Not yet recognizing the voice, Danny groaned as he tucked an arm into his side. The lone wheelchair reappeared behind him and he was gently levered back down with ease. There was a small gentle pat to his shoulder which was gone all too soon. It left him feeling lost and more than a bit at a disadvantage when he looked up to see Doctor F.A. Denton joining the hectic fray.

Moved out of the way and assumed to be forgotten for the more critically injured, Danny sat there for an instant longer before struggling to his feet. It couldn't have been long but Kono hadn't returned and once more, the team was dangerously fractured into its individual pieces.

With only the briefest of worried looks towards where Keanu Iona was being hastily lifted to a gurney, Danny made for the stairwell where Kono had disappeared after the blonde-headed attacker. It was apparent that Iona had recognized her first and that had been the final catalyst. But only after Al Tortorro was announced as officially removed from TAMC property. The realization had blatantly angered the young woman just as she met Iona's eyes. That second sense of joint perceptive recognition had lasted a mere split second.

Stepping in front of Danny and pushing Kono to the side, Keanu had drawn his weapon with a lightning speed of dexterity. But he'd been in the open and at a disadvantage as Andrea Winston used a nurse as a human shield. Her own speed was also startling, as was her deadly accuracy when a flurry of shots were exchanged.

Pushed by adrenalin, Danny fisted Keanu's HPD revolver while forcing himself to move. None of Five-0 had actually met or seen Andrea Winston in person; as Duke had proudly stated, Keanu was indeed astute and very aware. But those abilities had put him directly in danger. No one stopped Danny now as he opened the stairwell door and began his careful descent moving step by step and using the railing for support. He had made it down one entire flight and was turning for the second when the lower exterior door slammed back open and sunlight lit the lower landing. Using his shoulder, Danny leaned against the wall bracing himself with one foot on the step below as he waited for the new arrival.

He firmly gripped Iona's service revolver which he aimed carefully just at the turn of the next landing .. exactly where the suspect's head might first appear if she had decided to return for some obtuse reasoning.

The footsteps were light and rapid as they took the ascent nearly two at a time. Ready to take the shot, he fought through his unsteadiness. Until he knew for certain, he didn't dare breathe or even wipe the sweat streaking down the side of his face. The internal physical struggle waned when Danny saw the dark hair first and then the flash of light blue. He was already dropping his hand in relief as Kono gasped in shock while rounding the landing just below where he had positioned himself.

"Hey, brah!" Utterly startled and out of breath from her chase, Kono threw both hands literally up in the air as she came eye to eye with her friend. Danny wobbled once as the air left his lungs in a rush. On its tail-end, he weakly folded his body in half to slide and slip down into a seated position.

"Danny. The agents are still trying to get her." Kono was at his side and gently guiding him against the wall where he closed his eyes, trembling in a responsive adrenalin dump which was happening as fast as its initial onset. "Are you alright? Is Keanu .. is he alright?"

"No." Whispering softly, Danny's eyes were tightly closed as he rocked his head into the wall. Keanu was not alight and neither was he really as he felt Kono peeling his fingers away from the young officer's police-issued weapon. He was suddenly too tired to say more and much too reluctant to confirm what he already knew since Kono had come back alone .. without the female assassin. He knew that the FBI had also lost Andrea despite their ongoing search ... once more, the deviously smart Tortorro woman had escaped.

He didn't say a word or move as the upper door opened and footsteps came closer on each iron step. Bone-weary, bleeding anew from torn stitches, and thinking now only of the bloody scene he'd just witnessed, Danny allowed the new hands to lift him up in unison.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	28. Chapter 28

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

 

Kono left the hospital before she really knew; she had to or else she wouldn't be able to drive plus, she already was running directly for Steve's truck. A sob had the gall to escape as she breathlessly climbed in and snugged the seat belt. Keanu had picked her up in Steve's truck not only because he'd been told to use it, but also because she wasn't supposed to yet drive. It didn't matter now though. The fallout from the mission had really gone too far. So of all things, it didn't matter if Kono's eyes were a little blurry or if she might continue to have small headaches camped out in the middle of her forehead: she was damn well going to drive.

 _"_ _Is he alright?"_ Her question rattled her as it ping-ponged around her brain, but Danny's roughened reply of a simple " _no_ " brought another sob bubbling to the surface. He had been in a dead faint seconds later with Denton furiously protesting not only about the blood on his patient's hands, but that now leaking through his once immaculate bandages. The next hastily spouted complaints about physical collapses and dire setbacks had first sparked Kono's tears.

After trailing the small entourage up the stairs with Danny literally carried between them, the leftover destruction in the corridor of the ICU had surely brought them forth. Blood seemed to stain the floor, parts of two walls and even a portion of the nurse's station. Keanu hadn't been the only one wounded; the nurse had been shot in the crossfire and then, without a doubt, Kono's mind had sputtered at the realization that Andrea Winston had not escaped fully unscathed herself. But of course she hadn't because Kono had seen streaks and droplets of bright red in the parking lot.

She had stayed with Danny until she had been forced to leave. The medical staff had their hands full, Danny was unconscious and she was literally in the way. She had steeled her emotions for a short time; just long enough to manage to call HPD for Duke. She had managed to relate what had happened and to provide a sketchy but sound description of Keanu's little known status, but after that she hadn't quite been able to do more. Especially when another nurse had handed her Keanu's bagged belongings for supposed safe-keeping.

Unable to speak for a moment, Kono had faintly realized that Steve's keys would be in the bag and her find had set her in motion.

Fresh tears filled her eyes after starting the truck's engine. Thumbing through speed dial, the vehicle's hands free link echoed too loudly through the cabin to hammer her ears and she hissed at the unexpected emotional trilling shock which tingled her finger tips.

 _"_ _Kono. How's your morning? Are you at the hospital yet?"_ Steve answered on the third ring and by then, she was manually dialing down the volume on the speaker and failing at doing the same for her skyrocketing emotions. Her mind went completely blank as her vision swam painfully from tears coupled with the bright morning sunshine.

 _"_ _Kono?" Are you there?"_ He wasn't sure of their connection when she didn't answer and yet, her mouth nearly refused to work because she suddenly didn't know what to say.

"Steve." Her voice broke on his name as she blinked tears furiously out of her sight which was swimming almost dangerously as she entered traffic. Both her hands throttled the steering wheel as she aimed for his home, wiling herself to just think .. to just regain some semblance of self-control.

"Steve." She tried again and choked while simultaneously turning on the strobe lights and squawking the siren to move through a busy intersection. Kono failed after that as images rather than words flooded her mind. She didn't know how to explain the blood or how Keanu had been so badly wounded. She couldn't explain her chase after Andrea Winston who evidently had gotten away despite a short blood trail that ended just on the other side of the TAMC parking lot.

"Steve. Something happened .. Danny .. he's .. sick." Kono shook her head to dispel images that ruined her ability to speak coherently. She began to wonder if she was experiencing an odd version of delayed shock, but decided that couldn't possibly be happening because she was driving .. and she needed to drive. Her next inhale stuttered in the middle of her throat making her cough even more harshly.

"I didn't wait." Choking around a sharp cough, her voice was raspy and filled with a heart-wrenching sadness as she stumbled over words that made no sense. "It .. she was here .. Keanu. In the ICU .. and Keanu .. he's .. I don't know."

On the opposite side and in his kitchen, Steve swayed against the counter as he heard the undeniable pain in her voice. He'd managed to sleep because his body had demanded it, but he'd still woken feeling edgy. That unsettled feeling quadrupled as his own truck sirens thrummed next through the phone and his youngest team member fell apart virtually in front of him.

"Kono, take it easy." Just on the utterance of his name, Steve had known for certain. Her answering sob made him close his eyes as he lamely whispered into his phone. "Oh god, what happened?"

Something clenched in his chest as he heard the distant sobbing continue and nothing more except for Kono's shuddered breathing until she murmured something about contacting Duke. Fragments of more words which gave him virtually nothing to work with, sent his feelings of helplessness to an entirely new level.

"Kono. You need to calm down and tell me what happened? Where are you?" Steve was afraid to ask as he wedged the phone tightly to his ear. The silence was a chasm as she tried to gain enough composure to explain that she was coming for him to take him back to Tripler. The final few things she was able to get out were enough for him to understand that at least, but her broken whisper about Danny and what sounded like a critically injured Keanu Iona was unexpected.

 _"I think .. I don't know."_  Kono's voice cracked in a discordant wave that was not from a mechanical wireless disturbance. It was completely unlike her normal self and Steve felt sick as he tired to ascertain more based on tone, tears and a few strangled syllables. Rather than improving, the more Kono tried to speak, the worse she actually sounded. He could almost hear that same confused level of frustration as she struggled against her emotions to make herself more clear.

_"Danny .. he .. he's sick again and Denton is with him. But Keanu. He was shot and it's so bad .. Steve, I just don't know."_

"Get here, Kono. Be careful .. but get here." Much too anxious to wait inside, Steve was simultaneously ending his call with her while moving towards his front door. By the time the door closed behind him, he had dialed Chin to demand that he find a way ... any way at all .. to get himself also to Tripler.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Danny sat poised on the edge of a gurney breathing steadily through a severe bout of dizziness. He'd been re-sutured, poked and then suffered through another round of being force-fed fluids starting when Kono had first begun to rummage through Keanu's belongings for Steve's truck keys.

A few minutes earlier, a nurse had come in to remove the IV line but not the port, apologizing for not bringing a wheelchair so that he could be returned to his usual room. His requisite battery of antibiotics would continue there. Now as she disappeared though, Danny had already made his decision to leave the hospital.

More than an hour had elapsed and the trickle of HPD officers had only increased like an ominous foreshadowing. He had briefly seen a stricken Duke Lukela, ensured the sergeant had taken possession of Iona's weapon, and then had begun to hear the very unsatisfying initial reports.

Danny had had enough as he palmed his forehead to then leave his hand clutching half the hair on top of his head. The word on Iona wasn't good, but Danny already had known that and he innately knew what would be coming next. He needed to leave because he didn't want to be there to hear it first hand.

He didn't need to hear it either because he'd personally _felt it_  through his own hands while kneeling next to the boy. He felt it happening with each weakening breath as Iona stared up at him in utter bewilderment. Danny had seen it before and he'd felt it before; and as unfeeling as it seemed, he had to leave because it really was the exact opposite. What he needed was to move and get as far away from hospital grounds as humanly possible.

Danny carefully slid off the gurney, once more painfully hunched over and gently supporting his newly bandaged wound, when he distractedly found bloody residue on his hands. His weary stumble brought him over to the room's small sink where he leaned against its rim with one hip. Almost blindly, he soaped and then resoaped his hands repeatedly to scrub at the red stains still ingrained in the fine ridges of his fingers. He scrubbed them until his hands blurred together and he only knew he was washing his hands by the repetitive motion. The water was ice cold as he obsessively rubbed and then picked at the tiniest of spots. It was cold enough to bring on sickly chills throughout his beleaguered body.

Three washing sessions led to five when he finally paused but kept the water running to drum loudly against the stainless steel basin. Dripping up to his forearms, Danny leaned on the sink and closed his eyes. He was dizzy and bone-tired but wholly unable to want anything more than to leave the hospital. Lost in thought, he never heard the door open and yet still didn't react when he unexpectedly felt the doctor's hands on his arms.

"You shouldn't be up. What are you doing?" Denton was careful with the Detective, thinking him to be overly pliable in his shock. He frowned as he leaned past the man to turn the running water off, shoving paper towels into his hands.

"Here. Sit down and I'll find out what's taking so long." The doctor regained his hold and tried to turn him once more towards the gurney. Instead of answering though, Danny shirked slowly away from the gentle guiding restraint.

"Get me my things. I'm leaving." Monotone and roughly voiced, they were the first words he'd actually said since Denton had found him in the stairwell.

"I'd highly recommend not doing that. You've had quite the shock and need to rest." Denton softly tried to move his patient once more towards the waiting gurney. The altercation had set Danny back a full day based on his fluctuating vital signs and newly closed wound which had no chance to even begin healing. There was more soft tissue damage and the area was reddened and extremely tender. The doctor was about to continue his gentle prodding when he sensed the new movement behind him, somewhat now surprised to be face to face with Steve.

Standing closest next to his shoulder, a teary-eyed Kono absorbed the questionable scene of defiance which was slowly unfolding. Her relief at finding Danny on his feet regardless of the reason was palpable even though Denton obviously disapproved.

"Danny." Kono whispered while rubbing continual streaks of wetness from her cheeks. He'd been unconscious when she left and under Denton's near-frantic care. She had no idea what to tell Steve because she had no clue of what they would find upon their return to TAMC. While Danny was pale, tense, and bent nearly in half as if the last few hours had permanently aged him, in reality he was exercising his own obstinate nature as an ache refused to leave his middle. Because of that, Danny could only offer them a briefly relieved twitch of his lips which was really more of a subtle relaxing of his tightly clenched jaw.

"What's going on?" Steve interrupted, genuinely stunned to find his partner standing and with the most stubborn of expressions firmly plastered across his face. "Danny?"

"We're having a bit of a disagreement." Denton's disapproving sigh gave credence to the firm hold he had kept of the Detective's bicep. The man was virtually trembling from fatigue, pain and emotional loss. For all of those valid reasons, he simply couldn't condone what he'd just been told.

"Your partner thinks that he's leaving. He thinks that he's signing out against medical advice when in reality, he needs to lay down and get more rest." Believing that Steve would back him up as Danny physically wavered in place, Denton used that as his example. "This has truly set him back a good day and maybe more. Talk some sense into this man, please. I need to get him up to his room."

The two friends looked at each other without uttering a single syllable. Danny's face was nearly unreadable as he met Steve's eyes. He was all the things Denton had said and possibly even more. However, he simply had to leave. The barely imperceptible sad turn of Danny's head was all Steve required to adamantly shake his own to deny the doctor's demands.

"No. No, I can't do that." The words were soft but firm, broaching no argument whatsoever despite the stunned expression leveled at him by the good doctor. Focusing solely on him to drive that point home, Steve shook his head again without any modicum of apology. "No, I can't do that at all."

"You can't be serious." Denton sputtered indignantly. "I'm not playing any games here."

In reply, Steve's lips tightened into a stern line of understanding, concern and even respect. However, he fully backed his partner's decision versus that of the TAMC physician. They would all take care of each other and answer to the medical community if and when needed. Until then, the team would manage together since it was something they all needed to do. Danny had made the call first and that was going to be enough.

Steve and Denton regarded each other with strong wills, neither willing to give way to the other all for the sake of the injured man. The delay merely allowed Danny to silently remove himself permanently from Denton's hands. Continuing to stare the doctor down, Steve spoke just as quietly over his shoulder to Kono as Danny sank into the side-chair to wait.

"Find his things and bring them here. We're going."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	29. Chapter 29

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

 

Andrea had failed where she had assumed a complete success and she had succeeded only where it least mattered. The blow was dangerous to her ego and even her future to remain alive once Angel Tortorro learned the outcome. She had waited to watch the HPD officers leave one by one, very well aware when only one or two might be still inside the halls of the hospital. Another key benefit was the lateness of the hour and then pending very early morning staff turnover which she took advantage of instantly.

Her entry was simple and she took proactive notice of anyone she encountered with pleasant smiles and soft requests for directions to the ICU changing her story between two pre-rehearsed scenarios when it seemed opportune. She had learned over time that simple was best because people never saw what was directly under their ignorant noses. So on this special occasion, first she was a social worker or secondly, she spun herself as an anxious daughter just in from the mainland and incredibly desperate to see her father.

Her ease to navigate the halls was made even more simple because she latched on to an orderly whom she encouraged to escort her so that she could be sure of being in the right wing. To him, she was that jet-lagged daughter just on the verge of exhausted tears and a petrified sense that her  _father_  was indeed, dying. With a uniformed TAMC employee guiding her, she was confident that she wouldn't be stopped for the assumptions that were made by anyone who might have noticed them.

The ploy of acting as if one belonged had never been so easy for Andrea as she looped her arm through the man's elbow when a flux of tears suddenly welled in her eyes. At that, he hurried her along in an embarrassed rush in order to be rid of the emotional woman.

However, her string of meticulously orchestrated successes had virtually ended at that very point as she stood in front of the nurse's station to learn that Al Tortorro was gone. Learning of that truth was a bit stilted and quite by accident brought to her ears only when she overheard a young Asian woman complaining to a wheelchair bound man. The conversation had been respectfully quiet, but Andrea had heard and what she  _heard_  was infuriating. She had turned in a stunned, reactive anger with a verbal curse on her lips only to then come eye to eye with the very same young officer she'd met at the hotel.

There had been a pregnant pause, then a confused sharing of joint recognition. Her anger had escalated while his temper had remained cool and his reaction methodical; testament to fine training and instincts. But shots had been exchanged and people had been wounded in the short spat of chaos. After watching the officer fall, Andrea had shot the nurse to instill another warning that she not be toyed with nor followed. It had bought her time, though of course she had been eventually pursued surprisingly by the Asian woman and a few other shapes whom Andrea didn't take time to qualify.

The value of her next success was subsequently also due to her careful planning in that she escaped the property to make it to the marina. She had lost her pursuers between parked cars and shadowy areas to flee under the small copse of brush to gain her small motorcycle. They were on foot and she'd left them in the proverbial dust. She had now reached her final goal of the marina, however that achievement no longer mattered. Her beloved uncle had been moved discreetly by the FBI which meant her mission had failed. To add to the growing insult, she had been grievously wounded in the exchange of gunfire.

"This can't happen!" She coughed and shook her head to clear a darker haze. "Damn, lying, FBI!" Anger kept her on her feet long enough to get to the marina where she forced her body to hide the motorcycle. Her next feat was to navigate the dock to her family's boat, but by now she was struggling badly.

"I'm going below." She snarled out to the boat's captain while clutching the center of her abdomen. "Get ready to leave." She coughed again and nearly faded on the spot as a white light streamed across her vision. The captain had her arm when she regained her senses and she jerked away, ignoring his question to continue down the short staircase to the main salon.

When fifteen minutes passed, the captain cursed under his breath. He'd completed his checks and the engines were idling softly now as he readied the large cabin cruiser. He cleared his throat and glared at his first mate before sliding down the staircase to the lower level. He knocked, waited and knocked again while fidgeting from foot to foot.

"Ms. Tortorro." He turned the knob and called her a second time, finally opening the door all the way to discreetly peek around the frame. "Ms. Tortorro?"

He stopped then and heaved in a careful, deep worried lungful of air. He had a new problem. One that was most unexpected and beyond his personal level of expertise. He fully entered the room now to look at the body sprawled on the bed. Arms out-stretched, she stared blindly at the ceiling with the same look of resolute hate and anger etched across her rigid face. He rubbed his eyes against the sight and then backed up, nauseated by the sheer volume of blood.

Behind him, a gasp sounded and he whirled in anger to face his first mate who had no business joining him below. "Get out of here." The captain gruffly demanded as he too, vacated the room. He pushed the younger man roughly up the stairs to the main deck where the fresh air did little to remove what they'd both just witnessed.

Minutes later, the Tortorro's fine captain didn't know what to do at first as he watched the last of his small crew sneak off the rear of the vessel. There was a dead body on his boat. He had no idea what had happened, and didn't exactly care to find out. His indecision lasted as long as the thoughts of being arrested for his long time association and involvement with the Tortorro family.

It was apparent too, that Miss Andrea Tortorro had brought down a certain wrath on her head. She was operating alone ... and now she was dead. His indecision now lasted as long as considering what the family might do next. When very bad things happened, a person was on their own even if that special someone was part of the Tortorro family.

A very bad thing had happened and he was far from even being part of the bloodline. The captain gazed at the closed door to the lower salon. There was a dead body on his boat and it was the esteemed family's first daughter.

He moved then, quickly and with purpose. His final tasks were to power down the large vessel, lock the doors and tidy the top deck. Without looking back, the captain digested the fact that retirement never sounded nor looked so very good.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	30. Chapter 30

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

 

Unless she turned to look over her shoulder, Kono couldn't see Steve's face in the rearview mirror. He was sitting length-wise across the truck's rear bench seat with his back up against the door just behind the passenger. Danny of course was that front seat passenger and she could see him well enough to know that he wasn't doing well. If she had dared to turn towards Steve, she would have seen him staring at the small space between the leather seat and the door where he could just make out the back of Danny's head.

None of them spoke because any question about how each was doing would either spark a defensive retort or evoke a bad lie. They didn't need to go there either because in the end, they were doing the right thing.

In fact despite worrying about Danny, she herself was doing marginally better now that they were together which by default then gave her a job to do. Steve had also given her a gentle dressing down when she arrived to pick him up much earlier that morning. That heart to heart talk, plus the fact they were all almost together after the nightmarish last few days were settling some of her terribly raw nerves. Those things combined to provide a sterner focus which brought her back to a more solid center. Now, only Chin was still at TAMC to be with Duke in order to hear word on Iona. He also was waiting for Doctor Denton to present them with the laundry list of care instructions for his wayward obstinate patient who hadn't even wanted to wait for those. Prescriptions would follow later then too, compliments of Chin once he could gather everything into one tidy package.

Biting her tongue, Kono worriedly glanced again over to Danny as he lay up against the passenger door scarcely moving except for an occasional wince or rise and fall of his chest. The right side of his temple pressed against the glass and his eyes were closed as she carefully avoided speeding, dramatic turns and any quick action. His level of distress and extreme exhaustion were more obvious now, yet all she could do to help in that moment was drive to Steve's house. Once there, she would take over to make sure that he stayed in bed as Denton demanded.

"Almost there." Kono offered softly as she caught a tight wince. "Less than ten minutes." She soothed verbally and then dared to briefly rub Danny's shoulder in support. In the back seat, Steve murmured the same before advising her on how to help them both out of the truck once she parked in the drive.

Even though he didn't answer, Danny heard each word as he hid behind his closed eyes. He'd gotten his way and he was immensely relieved; gratified that his partner completely understood and that his team rallied to second and third his decision. But now, his body's protests could no longer be denied and he involuntarily made a pained sound in his throat as Kono turned into Steve's neighborhood. The last turn told him where he was though and he slowly began to get his body together for one more herculean effort.

Behind him, a hand wended its way between bucket seat and window to find the crest of his right shoulder. "How are you holding up?" Steve gently anchored his hand to the one bit of his partner he could reach. Through the white material, he could feel the damp heat spreading into his fingers. Denton had done his best to ready Danny for the trip, but the meds were slow to act and Steve could feel the pained tension.

"Fine." Danny whispered mostly into the glass of the window. The first half lie had been uttered and Steve refused to remove his hand as he chuffed a disgusted sound. They were better but none of them were truly fine. Not yet. Plus Danny was tightly strung with an exhausted pain despite Denton's efforts before their inexcusable leave from the hospital.

Rocking his head backwards to close his own eyes, Steve checked his mental clock based on the methodical careful travel. "About four or five more minutes. That's all." He reported softly.

With his hand still on Danny's shoulder, he could feel the subtleness of the continued strain through a sporadic vibration. It eased slightly though and still vigilant, Steve slightly relaxed himself. Denton had prepped Danny's system with a myriad of medications to maintain a certain stability for his ill-advised journey away from the hospital. Cautiously, he'd given Danny low dose, time released pain medication and mild sedative which were finally taking a firmer grip. Orders following that were sound and all had duly agreed to immediate action should Danny feel nauseous or worse; experience blackouts or if the wound should once more reopen.

"Feeling better, Danno?" Steve rubbed a slow circle with his thumb on the back of his neck as another muscular vibration thrummed to only collapse blissfully. He watched as Danny sank more into both window and passenger seat, while under his hand he felt a small approving nod. Suddenly his partner didn't feel like talking and Steve sensed the desired change kicking in with a bit more commitment.

"Meds are kicking in more. Perfect timing." Steve murmured. Denton had suggested the slower acting medications so that Danny would be comfortable but fairly mobile. However, he had made it clear that based on Danny's weakened system, there would be a moment of no return. They were fast approaching that now as Danny's breathing evened out and he seemed to doze. Steve just hoped that they'd be able to rouse him enough to get him settled comfortably in the spare bedroom.

"Not sick or anything?" Steve pestered to be sure, smiling to himself when the patient negative sigh reached his ears. They'd turn on a dime regardless of decisions should any of Denton's warnings reach fruition.

"Fine, Steven." The two words were soft and promised that truth because Danny knew he couldn't really afford those things. His weary but ongoing promise was haltingly confirmed and Steve squeezed his shoulder in understanding. "You'll be the first to know."

From where Steve was sitting, he could see Kono's profile. Her glance towards Danny was quick but measured every inch of his posture from top to bottom. Kono did chance a real look at Steve in the back seat, finally pleased to see some of the distress leaving Danny inch by steady inch. She nodded in agreement based solely on the way his free hand was now unclenched and how the taut lines creasing his brow had significantly begun to smooth.

With his eyes closed, Danny faintly quirked his lips in a mild smile about the doctor's moody attitude. Denton's expression had been dour the entire time, but in the end, his need to at least do what he could with what he'd been granted, was good enough. Then in a spontaneous feeling of thanks, Danny's unexpected compromise was a firm promise to return to the hospital not only based upon the three potential symptoms, but also forty-eight hours later for a complete checkup.

So now, this last minute diligent care had begun to make Danny feel numbly comfortable. He eventually lost some of Steve's touch on his shoulder and then fought to at least keep it so he wouldn't fall entirely asleep. But as the drugs kicked in, he found a clear lack of desire to move more than a finger at a time. He was still experiencing a dull ache every so often and there was a definite tightness in his side, yet just a short time ago it had been so much worse. He zoned out and moved into a hazy fog, lulled now by the truck's movement instead of being uncomfortably jarred.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

"We're here. Don't move, Danny, give me a chance to get to Steve first." Half apology and half demand, Kono finally parked the truck and then dove for the rear doors where she guided Steve to his feet and shoved the crutches in his direction. But by the time she'd reached Danny with Steve just hovering behind, he had only managed to move off the door.

"Danno, let's go." Steve's lurking shadow was suddenly leaning over him to unsnap the seat belt with one hand. Momentarily confused, Danny stupidly blinked up at his partner with eyes that refused to focus, wincing at the stabbing brightness of the late morning when the sun hit him full in the face.

"Hey, let's go." The look creasing Steve's eyes was almost one of amusement as he futilely rubbed Danny's shoulder firmly to wake him more. "Ready, pal? You don't feel sick or anything, right?"

"We're here, Danny." Appearing beneath Steve's arm, Kono wound up bending down to physically move Danny's legs around from under the dashboard to aim them for the truck's running boards. With Steve's added support, Danny at least managed a sideways sit on the bucket seat though he still didn't commit to moving.

"I got it." Danny breathed out, missing the shared smiles when he did absolutely nothing more to help. Sighing in frustration, he frowned then, glaring at his knees and then down to the black top of Steve's driveway which was fluctuating and shimmering in long hot waves.

'And, well, I got you, Danny." Kono softly smirked as she inserted her shoulders under his arm to gently lift upwards. Her lifting motion got his feet to at least stumble off the running boards to hit the pavement, but then his knees sagged briefly in response to the new position. Her firm readjustment of his arm over her shoulder managed to lock each of the rubbery joints as she waited for him to gain some of his equilibrium back. "Okay? Tell me if I hurt you, brah. We'll just go slow."

"Uh, Kono." Next to her, Steve couldn't help the sarcastic snort or shake of his head as he abandoned one of his crutches to grab for Danny's other elbow. It was going to take two of them to get Danny into the house and then on to the rear bedroom to sleep. "I don't think he feels anything right now, Kono. Not a blessed thing."

"I got it." Danny repeated, blinking rapidly to clear his vision, but it seemed permanently affected by a bleary haze. Mildly offended by Steve's observation, he tried to set his jaw as he willed leaden feet to listen. No, he wasn't feeling much of anything as he moved one disembodied foot and then the other with hardly knowing how or why he could by that point. "Denton." He murmured and his delayed chuckle emanated up between his two friends. The sloppy sound was unexpected and funny, causing Kono and Steve to leave some of the desperate seriousness behind for a short moment as they too found their smiles.

"You okay? You don't feel sick or dizzy ... are you dizzy?" The questions persisted and Danny scowled as he stared into Kono's face. She had him propped up by both shoulders and was a literal inch from his nose. They had just been outside in the driveway and he remembered entering the house, but now he was sitting. "Danny, are you okay? You need to lay down, brah, and get some rest."

"What?" He asked as he blearily realized he was already sitting on the bed in the spare bedroom.

Back at the hospital, he had decided to not change into his old clothing from the plane crash. Despite their tattered look, their malodor in the plastic bag provided by the hospital was an astounding incomprehensible stench. So other than his shoes, he was in the same hospital scrubs and Kono was plucking at the sad white robe while Steve tossed a spare t-shirt idly in one hand.

Danny knit his brow in utter confusion because he was suddenly barefoot. His shoes had somehow found their way off to the side and the robe was soon to follow. "Hey. Lay off." Danny objected, batting her hands away from doing anything else. He might have faded out for a minute, but there was some dignity that he would insist upon maintaining.

"Seriously, Danny?" Kono sighed in disgust loudly through her nose. She was now holding the spare t-shirt which Steve had thrust into her hands with every intent of at least getting a more comfortable article of clothing over the top of him. "Do you want to change out of those or not?"

"I'll do it." He stated indignantly. Regardless of the glassy-eyed stare, it certainly wasn't going to be her who helped in this particular instance. She resentfully gave it up though when he tugged weakly on the material.

"Fine. I'll be in the kitchen. Have at it, boss." Her comically rolled eyes were aimed at Steve as she left the two to figure things out for themselves. It was going to be an interesting affair with a one-legged man and another who was drugged to the gills.

"I got it." Danny muttered when Steve attempted to retrieve the t-shirt to help. He fumbled and failed at getting the scrub's little string-like ties undone on his back. Grinning widely, Steve tugged and pulled to undo them enough so Danny could pull the material stubbornly off to puddle on the floor. Refusing to relinquish the t-shirt, he finally pulled it on over his head and then carefully found each sleeve.

"It's backwards." Steve grinned as the Navy insignia and logo settled on Danny's back versus his front. The continued scowl said it was going to stay that way too as Danny took the offered sweat pants next. They would be too long of course, but he needed something not only loose and comfortable but clean. On top of that, he had the astringent smell of the hospital in his nose and he was determined.

"You can do this?" Steve asked doubtfully as Danny fumbled around his middle. The rude look confirmed it as Steve thumped backwards a step with the cast. The short activity just to change clothes was taking a lot out of his partner, but he was at least determined in this most basic of tasks.

"Oh man." Danny admitted his fatigue through the tiny mumble as he slumped back onto the bed in a weary huddle. He glanced up to Steve and shook his head tiredly. Virtually every pillow in the house was positioned to make a perfect elevated nest for his head and shoulders. However, getting down to the position his body was now screaming to do was an other story. His eyes closed again as he gathered dregs of energy he certainly didn't have to edge backwards to aim towards the cushioned nest.

"Oh man." He complained again as he accidentally pulled on his side and gave up. "This is .. ridiculous." The one benefit of being in the hospital was certainly the style of bed which could be positioned at his whim. What he had to deal with now was simply a near overwhelming mountain to overcome.

"You don't feel sick or anything, do you?" For the hundredth time, Steve asked to now earn a recalcitrant look. "Okay, I know. You're fine."

"You'll be the first to know." Danny repeated caustically with an aggrieved sigh. "I'm tired and I want to lay down." He sounded plaintive then and Steve's grin was back in place.

"Just a bit more, Danno. Wait a minute and let me try something." Steve hooked his hand under Danny's arm and lifted upwards. The support provided Danny just enough to lean against to make it the few long inches and when his back hit the elevated set of pillows, he sank down with a grateful moan.

"Thanks." Danny murmured when Steve lingered over his head making sure, no doubt, that he wasn't in any real pain. Unapologetic fingers pulled up the clean t-shirt to gently probe the bandages, yet Danny didn't complain. His eyes were heavy and refusing to open at all now despite his best efforts. Near him, he could hear Steve finally moving awkwardly around with his one crutch. Blankets were smoothed, windows opened, but shades drawn to block the coming afternoon sunshine. A few minutes later, he could feel the air moving rhythmically across his face as the overhead ceiling fan was switched on.

He dozed until slim fingers caressed his forehead and cheek, moving into his hair. Kono was back, and Danny relaxed even more. The feeling of peace was astonishing as he faintly realized there would be no disruptive hospital sounds, no nurses to draw blood or check his vitals every hour. Nothing but a peaceful silence where he could truly get the rest he so desperately craved. Those facts which he hadn't even considered made his decision to leave the hospital even more sound.

"Thanks." He whispered again when he felt Kono use the back of her hand to check his forehead. Denton had insisted that she at least check his vitals manually every few hours. But she would never disturb his rest the way the hospital staff had with their machines and purposeful clock watching. There would be no questions or dimmed lights or annoying visits.

"You're welcome. You tell us if you need anything, Danny." Kono whispered back. There was a smile in her voice and he twitched his lips in kind as he allowed stiff muscles to relax and melt into the pillows she had so carefully plumped before he had managed to change his clothing. "Get some rest now."

"Go to sleep, Danny." Even with his eyes closed, Danny envisioned Steve in the doorway with his garish camo-wrapped leg cast. His voice was exceedingly tired but Danny sensed the same level of peace in it as the team fully assembled in one place. A distant door opened and then closed. Behind shuttered eyes, Danny smiled again because Chin had arrived based on the quiet murmurs of welcome.

They were all in the one place where they could simply  _be_  and count on each other for at time. Danny would ask about Keanu later .. or be told .. but his sinking heart felt as if he knew otherwise already. It was the only sadly frightening thought he had before he allowed himself to give in fully to the medication which Denton had so wisely prescribed.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	31. Chapter 31

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**

 

Kono sat lightly on the very edge of the mattress balanced only by her toes which took most of her weight into the hardwood floor. Her fingers were loosely wrapped around Danny's wrist while he slept more soundly than she'd ever seen anyone. Barely touching him except for what she needed to do, Kono could just feel the constant thrum of his pulse beat. She smiled while mentally keeping count, pleased when the results were just as steady as they had been the three earlier visits when she'd done the same.

"Fifty-one." She whispered, releasing his wrist in such a way that it never moved. It was consistent for him and based on his slow, deep respiration, quite normal. "Not bad at all."

Silently breathing in a deeply measured breath, Kono closed her eyes to just listen realizing then, that she was also plainly put ... utterly exhausted. The only sounds she could hear in the room were that of a few birds, a very distant occasional wave and a low hum from the overhead fan. She intuitively knew that it was all a big part of why Danny was sleeping so soundly. Given any excuse, she would also willingly fall asleep right there on the spot and she fought to bury that urge completely. They had things to do.

Outside in the front of the house, Steve was immersed in a heated debate with the FBI. Andrea was still missing and Keanu was in a life and death battle on some cold, steel operating room table. Finding Danny in the stairwell with a Iona's gun trained practically at her head had completely stunned her. He'd hurt himself by doing too much; but of course he did because any one of them would have done the same thing. They were trained to react without personal thought. He had done what Keanu Iona had also done so very naturally.

On the stairs though, Danny had scared her by a singular brevity of reply which spelled disaster for Keanu. It had doubled then by Danny having the nerve to lose consciousness as soon as Doctor Denton arrived with a small medical team. Things had continued to fall apart minute by minute and Kono barely remembered her drive to Steve's house. Not that it had made sense, she certainly didn't recall what she had said on the phone while driving.

What she did remember was Steve's soothing yet stern words of advice and his ability to so easily calm her down so she could function. And hours later, she was still on the move.

"Damn it, Danny." With her eyes still closed but the threat of tears stinging, Kono stilled her own breathing as she mouthed the words. Try as she may, she tried to hear anything of Steve's conversation, but he was too far away in his latest undertaking. She was tired but still on edge and fearful of missing something important. With a firm resolve, she smoothed a corner of a light blanket.

"Stay asleep. It's safer." Kono advised in a sarcastic murmur before rising in one fluid motion to her feet. As instructed, she had been dutifully checking on Danny every few hours. Running now into the fourth, this most recent check on her part counted three and he hadn't even moved a a strand of hair from his original position. Delaying the inevitable, she loitered in the room making sure that things hadn't been changed by the odd one or two non-existent gremlins.

"So?" Chin inquired as Kono snuck back into the main living room. The room was bright in the afternoon sun and he made a disgruntled low sound in the back of his throat for her pale, drawn expression. He then mentally rounded on himself for not noticing her weariness much sooner.

"He's perfectly fine." She quirked a happy smile to herself for copying Danny's earlier words. "Besides what Denton did to make him comfortable, he's absolutely exhausted. He's going to be out for a long time so I wouldn't count on him having even dinner at this rate."

"I know it's a risk, but he really needed this." Chin added, but he narrowed his eyes to measure her fatigue now. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa with his elbows perched on his knees. The position pulled slightly on his own healing leg wound, but he was faring well and feeling better. An HPD officer had dropped him off at Steve's after he'd stayed at TAMC with Duke Lukela for a short while. Lined up in front of him on the coffee table were three white bags. Each held a particular medication for Danny which he wouldn't need to begin until the next morning for the things Denton had given his AWOL patient prior to leaving the hospital.

"Him and me, both." Kono amended her cousin's words with all seriousness. Before he could ask about her own need for a decent nap, she was interrupting his thoughts and taking on a new tact with a wide gesture towards the front door.

"Steve is still outside dealing with them?" She drawled the word ' _them_ ' in a not so nice tone. Not really thinking, she picked idly at the white bandage covering the wound in her arm. It didn't really bother her and was the least of all of their worries. Her head injury had actually been her largest issue, but she snorted wryly under her breath. In helping Danny and having a firmly grounding tete a tete with Steve, she'd completely forgotten about her morning headache.

Chin nodded, but he was miles away in thought about what they'd all been discussing and now partially distracted with Kono's tired posture. She was doing an almost good job at covering it up and even managing a stellar attempt at keeping the conversation going. Yet as she spoke, he was contemplating a plan to put an end to her nervous energy since they didn't need another of them to collapse for no valid reason.

"He is, but I think he's almost done. I haven't heard anything new from the hospital." Chin shared. When he had left the hospital, Iona was still undergoing emergency surgery. The initial word was not a favorable one and Duke was blaming himself for putting his young Rookie in harms way. He had stayed for a while after Chin left for Steve's house; but the last update about Duke was that he was spearheading an effort to bring down Andrea, himself. Steve was now hung up on that tidbit of information.

What had happened at TAMC was not Duke's fault. What happened to Keanu wasn't either because it could have been any one of them or even a stranger.

It made sense for Duke to be involved with bringing down Winston, but HPD in general would need help because of the FBI's new evasive attitude. They would need more intel to act upon and Steve was now firmly re-inserting Five-0 and HPD participation directly back in the FBI's face. It didn't matter if Five-0 was entirely limited in their duties. What Steve wanted was information; news; updates. He wanted the consideration and professional courtesy that was now officially due them all. He wanted in and he wanted to know everything despite the situation.

"Ouch." Kono winced when she heard the deep baritone through the front door; voices were rising again and it sounded as if Steve wasn't precisely getting anything of value. Across the room, Chin shook his head to communicate disgust. When she continued to stare at him, Chin shook his head again not needing to guess the silent question.

No. He'd not gotten any news on Keanu Iona either.

"It happened in a trauma center right under the noses of the most skilled doctors and surgeons on the island." Kono noted softly going back to worrying about Keanu's ongoing struggle. Each time she voiced that fact, it buoyed them considerably. Though in the back of their minds, the desperate worry of a sad reality lurked. "If he has any chance at all, it would be at TAMC and they were so fast ... they took care of him so fast."

Chin was silent as he studied her face. He had to bite back a knowing smile when she tried to swallow a yawn. They'd been talking softly back and forth for hours on end about the FBI, where Andrea Winston Tortorro might have gone, Duke's overwhelming self-flagellation and new focus, Keanu Iona, and of course, Danny. So engrossed with everyone except themselves, neither he nor Steve had noticed Kono's slumped shoulders or the way the very tiny lines around her eyes indicated a constant level of stress.

There was a soft thump outside the front door which drew their attention. "I called Duke." Steve announced as he reentered the house, still using one crutch as he balanced off the heel of the cast. His face was clouded with a continuing anger. "The FBI has a short list of properties and a one or two insights about where Winston would have gone. They gave me three and with some strong suggestion backed by our dear Governor, kindly asked for HPD assistance with each of them."

Chin had to smile at what the strong suggestion might have intimated. "Well done." He smirked. "They owe us a heck of a lot more than that."

"Duke's going to check out the three properties. Personally." Steve stressed. He had faith that the leads were sound. The FBI clearly knew that Five-0 was not playing around with demands once the Governor appeared so visibly on their radar. Their ongoing attempt at a dark period with two of their peer agencies was no longer going to serve them well if they ever wanted a future relationship. Plus now, they were incredibly embarrassed by missing an attack on their star witness, time and again. Attacks that left not only some of their peers in grievous harm, but also those within their own community.

"Anything on Al?" Kono questioned, frowning outwardly soon afterwards since Steve was already shaking his head to the negative. Al Tortorro was not their issue and he didn't care. Steve was quite willing to let the FBI have him. Andrea Winston Tortorro on the other hand, who was still very likely on their own turf, was a shared concern. She was very very much a shared and most troublesome interest. Andrea Winston was wily, fast and evidently rarely made any errors in her evil plans. Steve and Duke wanted to put an end to that streak or, at minimum a decent shot at a good piece of her.

Chin sat back carefully to extend his injured leg straight out and smooth out a painful muscle cramp. He blandly watched as Steve limp-hopped to join him on the sofa. Jittery and tapping her hand repetitively against her thigh, Kono continued to stand.

"I think we should all take five. Some of us have had a very long day already." Chin remarked suddenly. Intentionally keeping his eyes averted, he mocked a yawn which happily prompted a real one from Kono.

There was a long period of silence as Steve looked from one cousin to the other. The subtle tilt of Chin's head was an easy clue and Steve chastised himself for his extreme oversight. "So Kono, how's Danny?"

"He's good. Still sleeping." Her reply was honest and gave him the ammunition now needed. The glassy, bloodshot eyes did even more, as did the slight tremble to her fingers.

"Good." Steve meant it, too. As he argued their case with the FBI to subsequently escalate to the Governor's level, Danny was never far from his thoughts. He'd backed his partner but was pressed by the shadows of doubt where such a drastic decision might have made things worse. Relieved, he sighed as he shifted more into the sofa's plush backing before initiating an easier plan.

"Chin's right. I have to stay down here and use the sofa, but you can take the upstairs bedroom." Pointing upstairs, Steve waited for the adamant refusal.

Jutting her lip out, Kono scowled at the suggestion. "Uh, I'd rather not." Steve's upstairs bedroom was  _his_  and her comfort level at using that particular room fled her instantly. "I'll stay down here. I can check on Danny better ... just in case."

"You said he was fine. You just checked on him, in fact." Steve challenged softly. He saw what Chin was silently communicating then and pushed harder in a rather inventive way. "If he's alright, you can afford to take a break and truth be told, you need one. We all do."

It was true because they were all tired but Kono's mussed hair, shiny eyes and very pale complexion were now taking center stage.

"He is. I did. He's sleeping." She stumbled over her words almost defensively before finding a compromise. "I'll take the floor in the spare bedroom." Kono was gone before either man could object, to scavenge spare blankets and pillows to make her own form of comfortable nest by the foot of Danny's bed. Her arms were laden when she traipsed back in, passing by where they sat with every intent of reaching her goal. Her last words were on a soft whisper as she didn't even wait for a response. "This is fine. It's perfect and if he needs anything or if something changes, I'll know."

"Thank you." Chin said to Steve, suppressing a half chuckle as she disappeared from view.

"I can't believe I didn't notice." Steve complained with a rueful shake of the head. He'd been with her the entire day and had helped her through the worse of the morning's events. "I should have known better."

Refusing to judge, Chin remained quiet. They were distracted and overwhelmed by the ongoing subterfuge and extremes of a mission gone so drastically wrong. Instead, he leaned heavily to one side to get to his feet with his eye on the recliner. His meaningful tap of one hand on the sofa corner he'd vacated communicated a no-nonsense demand for Steve to get comfortable himself. Duke would follow-up and keep them informed. In the meantime, they all needed the down time.

In the spare bedroom, Kono was quietly arranging her comfortable finds on the floor where she could see Danny's face. Before laying down though, she felt a spontaneous rise of emotion bring another rush of tears to her eyes. She was definitely exhausted to be so emotional and she had to work hard at stifling a very real sob.

"Stupid." She coached herself, virtually pinching her thumbnail into the palm of her hand to stop the tears. She was angry when one escaped anyway, followed by an audible sniffle. Standing just over the bed, she watched Danny sleep and another errant tear got loose.

"Lolo." She was so tired now, she couldn't remember when the Piper had crashed or how many days had actually passed since the easy mission kicked off. So many things had happened in between, her head was muzzy and events only swirled in an off-beat pattern. Regardless of however long it had been, she had made and now possibly lost a new friend. They had all nearly lost Danny and she knew both Steve and Chin would argue about herself, too.

Spontaneously, Kono leaned over to tuck the sheet back over Danny's shoulder where it had slipped off. Without thinking, she gently ran her fingers over his forehead to make sure the remnants of an elevated temperature were no worse. Satisfied and in better self-control, she went to her pile of blankets and pillows to get comfortable not believing that she'd calm her mind enough to get any real sleep.

Her chosen spot was in direct alignment with the fan which sent soft cool waves to waft through some of her hair. It felt good and she stayed propped on one elbow gazing at Danny for just so long as her eyes truly began to tiredly burn. He finally twitched to slightly roll over and she managed a grin. With every intent of checking on him in no more than two hours, Kono stretched out, burying her face in clean pillows and covering her bare shoulders in a light yellow sheet. Her last look at Danny was hazy and calming. She could just make out the continued rise and fall of his chest before she too, fell completely asleep.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	32. Chapter 32

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO**

 

Duke Lukela lived on a small island. At least relatively speaking when compared to the mainland. He had grown up here, married and had worked here his entire life. He had seen and experienced a lot. Perhaps not everything, but certainly a staggering amount of graphic tragedies countered by a myriad of happy successes.

However, when he found Andrea Winston Tortorro's lifeless body based on one of the FBI's intelligence reports garnered by Five-0, he knew then that he'd absolutely topped some of his prior crime scenes in spades. In death, her arrogant sneer was worsened as gravity pulled her at her lips to snarl up into the low ceiling of the cabin. He was also sure that every ounce of blood had seeped from her body into the paisley comforter cover, through to the sheets, and then down to the mattress.  **  
**

"Get this boat and the dock cordoned off." He stood over the body with squared off shoulders and refused to move. The body had been there for a few hours and the tinny smell of blood was already nauseating in a room that was much too warm and airless. He vowed to stand there until the medical examiner arrived along with the criminal scene unit. The FBI would come too, but he'd handle them accordingly. Until whichever happened first he would stay there alone and make sure nothing was touched or moved in any way, shape or form. Then, he would stay even longer.

"Sir?" one of his men was in the doorway, and he flinched when Duke much too calmly looked his way. The edict had already been made and no one entered the lower salon until their sergeant said otherwise. However he didn't have good news. In fact, it was the very worst news possible and he found himself dropping eye contact to the floor. "It's the hospital."

There was only a moment of hesitation as Duke studied the man's face and that was also going to be enough.

"Get out." Duke stared at his officer as he whispered the order. It was the one thing he didn't want to hear and yet, he knew all along it would be coming. He didn't say it rudely or raise his voice. His tone was sad and simply communicated that he understood and didn't need to hear the exact words. Looking once more at Winston's body, he categorized and isolated the wounds from the sea of nearly dried blood.

"Good job." He whispered again because Iona's aim had been precise and true. He'd gotten off three very clean shots to hit the woman in a lateral pattern across her lower abdomen. Duke had no idea how she had managed to get away or get this far. It was only testament to her ingrained hatred and fierce desire to win. But this time, she had truly lost and Keanu Iona had seen to it.

However, he had lost too. They all had and Duke had to fight to remain outwardly calm where he was quaking inside and physically sick to his stomach.

"I'm sorry." He glanced around almost guiltily to make sure he was still alone. Which he was, because the rest of his team were all topside and beginning to mourn despite having to do their jobs. Duke went back to visually inspecting the sprawled body and the damage he could see under her ruined clothing. He tried to remain removed from the crime scene, but Iona was too close to his mind's eye. Everything was disturbingly much too fresh.

"It shouldn't have happened. Not this way." He couldn't make it right. No matter what he did or said going forward; nothing would make it better. He would appear to be desensitized and even starkly cold.

Inside the sorrow of his soul though, Duke added that Iona's loss was entirely his fault, too. He accepted total responsibility. The combination of personal guilt and sense of duty would keep him here for hours because he would try to make it right even though the gesture was an impossible trifle.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Another dream woke Danny from a deep sleep to an almost alarmed state of confusion. The room was pitch dark and not a sound was to be heard except for his own erratic breathing until he managed to get himself under control. Only then did he hear the nocturnal sounds of happy insects and a few night birds. A few seconds later, he remembered being at Steve's house but he certainly hadn't expected to sleep such an unreasonable amount of time. Largely due to that stretch of time, a very particular need was now making itself known and he needed to get up.

Testing each leg and then hands that seemed at first unwilling to cooperate, Danny slowly unraveled himself from sheets and pillows only to lay stranded on his back, once more staring at the vaguely remembered ceiling fan. His side ached deeply with the freshness of new stitches and torn soft tissue now that Denton's much earlier round of medication had completely worn off. Scarcely moving, he was already gaining an inkling of what being set back a full day was really going to mean.

Wedging his arm against the bandages, he rolled to his good side and panted through a ripple of pain. His legs rolled off the bed first allowing him to sit on its edge, but certainly not comfortably. Eyes screwed shut, Danny sat through both a sweat-inducing ache and wave of weakness. His eyes slowly opened a few minutes later to an odd dark lumpy rectangular shape stretched out on the floor under the room's one window. In the darkened room, he wasn't sure what he was seeing until he saw Kono's hand and the white bandage which gleaned just enough.

He didn't know what to make of Kono being there at first, practically curled up and camped out so comfortably. Danny rubbed at his face tiredly wondering if he'd make it to the bathroom and back without disturbing her. Without trying yet, he knew he was going to have trouble with his shaky energy reserves. He could see the door just a few feet down the hallway, but he was only storing up resolve to move from a seated position to his feet.

Actually  _walking_  would be a tremulous phase two.

Hanging his head, Danny breathed rhythmically through his body's distinct problems to concentrate and gather enough energy for the first task. Fisted hands pushed into the mattress as he closed his eyes, yet he continued to sit there debating on when he'd be ready to try.

"Hey." The word was a soft exhale and echoed from the doorway making Danny nearly jump at the unexpected noise. Danny tore his eyes open to find Steve rocked sideways to accommodate the atrocious cast. Taking a few cautious steps into the room, he was as quiet as he could be to extend his hand to help his partner to his feet.

Danny didn't take the offered hand until he managed to get to his feet, hunched and trying to inhale slowly to push down unintentional pained sounds that would wake Kono in an instant. Two steps later though, he was close enough and grabbing for the support almost blindly. He froze when Kono moved in her makeshift bed, mumbling in her sleep, and readjusting herself to turn and completely face the wall. His glance up to Steve found a fiendish grin firmly in place as he managed both one crutch and his partner's weight.

"Let's go. She'll sleep." Steve whispered nearly inaudibly as he took even more of Danny's arm as he shuffled forward. With his body finally catching up on badly needed rest, Steve had woken minutes before Danny with his typical restless nature and his new daily dose of disgust aimed solely at his knee. He had been quietly making his way out to the lanai to stand lop-sided in the dark when he caught sight of Danny's slumped silhouette. His change of course was simple enough to make sure things were as good as they could be considering the situation. He'd studied Danny's fisted hands and closed eyes long enough then to know that things were indeed waffling between poor and very bad. He was more than happy to lend a hand, but his partner was being returned to the spare bedroom per doctor's strict orders.

Now though, they both nearly fell over each other as Steve tried to navigate an awkward turn while maintaining his supportive hold. Opting to back up instead of turning at one point, the two were nearly comical as they tried to maneuver down the hallway. Danny's tug indicated the bathroom and Steve hesitated on how to help until the door was closed quite unceremoniously in his face.

"Fine." He mumbled just inches from the white painted wood, now standing abandoned just outside the small room. He didn't need to ask how Danny was feeling based upon posture alone or the sheen of sweat which dotted his face. Backing up, Steve leaned against the opposite wall to wait because his partner would be going straight back to bed where they'd unfortunately need to wake Kono at that point.

Chin had slept for a few hours after taking up the recliner only to wake to voluntarily create a rather inventive dinner with the humble foodstuffs in Steve's pantry. A large plate was put away in the refrigerator for Danny with the white prescription bags now specifically laid out on the dining room table because he'd be overdue for them once he finally woke. The enticing odors had briefly roused Kono too, and the three had eaten together.

The quiet event had been almost pleasant until Steve's cell phone vibrated warningly next to his left hand. Duke's number flashed repetitively, causing forks to pause in mid-air and Kono to stumble to her feet. Her eyes were filled with tears before Steve had even answered the late night call.

Duke had waited to call in lieu of personally handling the crime scene and dealing with the FBI. Steve's monotone replies to the detailed report were mixed with too much gravity, and his expression had communicated the truth long before the call ended. But in truth, they all had known what would happen.

After ending the call, Steve's update to the cousins acknowledged HPD's loss .. all of their loss .. first. Then as Duke had found, the simultaneous discovery of Andrea Winston Tortorro, dead on a cabin cruiser traced by the FBI back to Tortorro holdings, did little to soften the hard blow. The medical examiner was involved of course and Duke never doubted that he would confirm Officer Keanu Iona's bullets were the ones to find their deadly mark. It was barely satisfying that the young officer had reacted with such singular purpose because a posthumous celebration was not what anyone wanted.

Rocking his head hard into the wall behind him as he waited outside the bathroom, Steve closed his eyes and sighed loudly. He didn't look forward to telling Danny any portion of the story because it would always return full circle to Keanu. It would return to Danny's own failed attempt at stemming too much blood. The thought made Steve softly rap his head twice more into unyielding sheetrock. They had all held out hope that Keanu would make it by some divine miracle. Yet it was the reason Danny had so wanted to leave TAMC against medical advice. He hadn't mentioned Keanu during his short waking period, not merely because of Denton or his injuries, but because he already knew.

Behind the closed bathroom door, Danny stared briefly at his reflection in the mirror. He looked the way he felt which was an amazing travesty. His short venture to freshen up was taking much longer than even he had anticipated as he finally managed to lean over the sink to dash cold water on his face. He was shaking and off balance, strangling the white basin of the sink and unsurprised when the door rudely opened.

"Steven." He mumbled into the towel. He wanted to add that he was fine, but knew better as he grabbed for the sink to balance himself once more.

"Doc wants you off your feet for twenty-four hours." Unapologetically, Steve was worried and indignant should Danny object the interruption, however he'd taken too long. One good look had him scowling even more unhappily as he held out his hand again. His expression worsened when Danny accepted the help without complaint.

"What's going on?" At his elbow, Kono's soft voice suddenly trilled, and then she was taking Danny's opposite side to help guide him back. "Why didn't you wake me? I was there just for that reason." She chastised him quietly, noticing what Steve did and not surprised when Steve left her alone to help Danny. She knew he'd be going for the food, water and medications as prescribed.

Danny didn't say a word as he was ushered back to where he'd started. He was reconciling Denton's raw, angry comments about setbacks to how his body longed to be horizontal once more. Wholly disappointed to find out the hard way, he found that he was essentially wrecked and exhausted from the short time on his feet. Mentally, he filed away a pending apology to the doctor as Kono only left him briefly to turn on lights and reposition the mountain of pillows and blankets so that he could get back down.

"Wait." He muttered, once more perched on the edge of the bed and not even trying for the headboard where elevated pillows had been so astutely piled. He needed Steve's height and support again to finish the impossible task. "Get Steve."

"Alright. Don't move." Needlessly stating the obvious, Kono virtually fled the room to take over in the kitchen, careening now into Chin who'd woken with the budding level of activity and flicker of lights from a few rooms.

"He okay?" Chin asked, limping straight back to the spare bedroom to see for himself. Behind him, he sensed Steve's thudded one-step and wound up grinning for the one crutch, one heeled hollow staccato. The cast was solid and able to take his weight and Steve had quickly opted for one crutch instead of two to gain at least a few milliseconds of speed. That thought made Chin stop though because it brought a host of new issues which the team didn't need should the over-active man lose traction or slip.

"You want to slow that down?" He glared mockingly at Steve as he peg-legged to a slower pace to patronize his newly perturbed friend while balancing a glass of water in his free hand. "Slow it down and give me that." Ignoring a petulant grimace, Chin made the demand as he swiped the glass away to take it himself to where Danny remained sitting.

"Same as before?" Once there, Steve bypassed Chin, who was momentarily confused by the short question as Danny nodded to agree. He chuffed a sound through his nose as Steve balanced carefully to gather Danny's weight under his arm like a sturdy hook, waiting just long enough for the silent signal to lift and shift. Eyebrows raised, Chin was thoroughly impressed by the smooth movement which managed to get Danny exactly where he needed to be up against the elevated pillows. But he was loathe to agree to more than that based on the ashen complexion and the sheer fact that Danny was practically mute.

"Meds?" Chin looked questioningly to Steve who inhaled harshly. He wasn't pleased either, but they'd at least wait to get food and the prescription medications into their friend until decisions were reevaluated.

"I'm fine." Pursing his lips, Danny felt the telepathic worry as if it were palpable. "I am ... Denton said this would happen. He wasn't wrong and I just need to get back on schedule." He meant the medication refusing to react to Steve's overly irritated sigh which was interrupted by Kono who now brought the requisite articles on a tray.

"Eat it all. Whether you want it or not." She insisted with a murderous look now etched deeply in her eyes. "I swear, Danny. You've got to stop scaring me half to death, brah."

"Don't need an audience." Danny mumbled under his breath. "You all can go back to bed." He was dutifully picking through the meal, surprised when he found himself hungry after a few tentative bites. He was relieved when he'd finished and Chin kindly removed the tray. Then, he downed the palm-full of multi-colored pills which Kono proffered along with the entire glass of water. Still even after that, the three were refusing to leave him and a look into each pensive face was enough for him, too.

They had more to say and it wasn't going to be tidy questions about how he was feeling or even worried second-guesses about leaving Denton's direct care. "No." Danny bluntly stated, shaking his head because he didn't want to hear it .. he didn't  _need_  to hear it. Instead, he struggled for a way to say it first.

"Just ... don't." He held his hand up directly aimed at Steve with a look that pleaded that very silence. "I know and .. just .. can't. Not right now."

He missed the tears welling in Kono's eyes and the way she stared at him in complete shock. Her subsequent inquiring look towards Steve to confirm her understanding of what Danny meant was met with a grim nod. At a loss of what to do, she sat next to him on the bed for a long minute before insisting upon gently wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Behind her, the two others shifted uncomfortably, watching as Danny closed his eyes and mumbled something unintelligible into her arm.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	33. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: This was a tough story because it got so derailed with new chapters that never existed (for example, the last 15 at least!). But I did keep my ending and the story seems more 'whole' now that I let the bad muse bunnies have their way.
> 
> Yah, admitting publicly this is again different from what my poor, patient beta's already saw .. I try. Really I do! It's a good thing I'm in a different time zone; it will give me a running start!
> 
> Thank you for the wonderful reviews and such patience since I was also way off my usual posting schedule. And thank you for your patience with my inability to reply to so many of you with new jobs and RL rearing its head so much over the last month! It's not what I like to do because each review means so much, but I just couldn't get it all done.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:   "Epilogue"**

The trial had been intentionally delayed to cater to Al Tortorro's struggling body. He had been moved too soon but after the final showdown, others would argue that he'd been moved just in time. If Danny had suffered a setback, Al had suffered twice as much for the hasty departure mandated by a reactive federal law enforcement community. And if Danny had reveled in the wrath that was Doctor Denton, it was only due to the doctor's rising disgust as another patient was inconceivably removed too early from his care.

Another excuse granted for the temporary pause in legal proceedings included keeping lawyers, judge and jury all safe from the Tortorro's family startling depth of reach. Regardless of the reasons, it bought Al more time to heal and get back on his feet. He had been in L.A. for many of these last few days now, with a pre-approved physician catering to his every physical need. Ensconced at a safe house in the hills above the city, he was recovering and recuperating, but not quite right in spite of his reported medical progress.

That morning, he was sitting in a wheelchair and fingering a photograph while an older newspaper perched loosely on a thin knee.

With a regret he never once felt in his life, Al stared at the young officer's face. A person he had never met but someone linked to the female Asian officer by a professional kinship. Innately, he knew it to be more than that after having read the detailed newspaper articles now days old themselves. Articles that included praise for the young man's strength of character and focus in protecting a number of people. One mentioned the coming funeral which, now checking the date, Al realized had occurred just the day before.

Another article discussed Andrea Winston Tortorro and her prowess at infiltrating Tripler. For that, Al coldly felt nothing at all. This one article included mention of Officer Iona's responsibility for her demise and Al had gone back and forth between articles numerous times. He compared them, envisioned the gaps and filled in what might be missing. He considered those others involved, such as Kona Kalakaua and Danny Williams; two of the Governor's special contingent also impacted by that day's tragic events.

While information about Al certainly never leaked out, news of the world was delivered to him by one particular FBI agent who undoubtedly had ulterior motives meant to stir a certain fire in their State's witness. For once, that assumption was correct as Al tried to fist the photograph angrily in one hand as a knee jiggled dangerously to jostle the newspaper which gave final credence of life to the now deceased.

"Al?" That same FBI agent frowned as he stood nearby, wondering about the intelligence of his actions as their special witness flushed with anger. Thin and frail-looking, the rush of such emotion was ill-advised. "Do you need the doctor?"

"What." Lost in thought, Al snapped at the man in a fury as his knee jerked and the paper finally fell in a loose, cascading mass to the floor. His resolve had found a new level of focus. He would testify against his brother to see him fall and now, he would do even more than he had originally intended.

Al Tortorro had a new lawyer. One much stronger and wiser than Douglas Pratt. Al would demand an audience with him in order to divulge more than the FBI had dreamed possible ... more than they could have ever hoped. The end result would deliver Angel Tortorro on an iron stake to their front door, never to see the light of day again.

"No, I don't need the damned doctor!" Glaring at the FBI agent as if everything was entirely his doing, Al held his chest against the deep pain his rising temper caused himself to suffer. It was then made worse by a sharp coughing spasm which was severe enough for the agent to demand the doctor to the rear bedroom post haste in spite of the angry spat of brokenly heaved curses.

The doctor came immediately, kneeling down in front of the ravaged criminal to force oxygen and pain medication into a much too stressed body. As he slowly regained his breath, Al smoothed the slightly dog-eared photograph of Keanu Iona gently across his robed lap.

Nodding his thanks to the doctor who wished his patient to be back in bed, Al briefly pulled off the oxygen mask to speak. His voice was lower and gravelly from the soreness in his throat as he made an important demand of his own. Once he had his way, he would indeed need to rest.

"I want to see my lawyer today about my deposition. I want to see him and the Agent in charge. I have more that I need to share and I need to do it now."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

They stood in perfect formation each ruing the day for what it was despite the forced pomp which was meant to be a justly tribute. In reality, it was a beautiful tribute; the issue was that none of them could get to acceptance of that fact. It wasn't what they wanted and each flinched in their own ways when the final radio call was dispatched for Iona, followed by a twenty-one bells ceremony to honor the fallen officer.

That final call would symbolize the last time the officer will be mentioned on the dispatch radio. Iona's parents could not bear to hear the more traditional three-volley salute, yet the bells prompted a more strongly emotional response amongst all those present.

Unabashedly, Kono wiped her face while pushing down a weakening wave which twisted her stomach in knots.

Chin barely breathed as he firmly clenched his fists, only to take circumspect glances towards Duke Lukela. He shifted at times to take weight off the uncomfortable pull of his healing thigh wound, but the movement was nearly imperceptible.

Danny's eyes glistened as he stared straight ahead, yet he heard and saw everything regardless. Not yet cleared to work, he was hampered by an occasional fatigue which he refused to allow in for the long duration of that afternoon.

Next to him, Steve did the same to a great extent despite being hampered by crutches. His neat dress blues was a feat in tailoring to allow for the cast. However, stony-faced and unflinching on the outside, he was roiling in rage internally with nowhere to siphon the overwhelming emotions.

It wasn't what they wanted.

It certainly wasn't what any of them had expected.

It wasn't what a simple mission .. a  _simple_  field escort to the Big Island should have brought down upon them all. In fact, no less than two weeks earlier, not a single one of them had ever even heard of one, Officer Keanu Iona. Now he was tragically missed and regretfully mourned.

Danny had refused to speak about any of it. He only craved the details surrounding how Andrea Winston had been found and then drank in the facts as presented by the medical examiner.

_Andrea Winston Tortorro had been shot three times in succession from the same weapon. Any one of the bullets would have been fatal._

_In shock and no doubt, suffering. She had bled out. Alone. Even if she had timely medical intervention, she was technically the walking dead._

_It had all been a pre-ordained_ _fate sealed with the devil._

_Three perfectly leveled shots. Near, point blank range. Any one of the bullets would have been fatal._

Those three shots had been fired from Officer Keanu Iona's service revolver.

He had saved two Five-0 officers and one TAMC nurse, plus only the heavens knew, how many more that day.

So Danny focused on those facts to make it all count.

It was much more difficult for Sergeant Duke Lukela and even for Steve who had seemingly taken advantage of his young officer's "loan". The two wavered uncharacteristically about the fateful night before Winston had made it into the hospital. Steve didn't understand the premonition which had made him contact HPD. But for Duke who had kindly responded to the odd request, the eventual lapse in police presence was inexcusable even though hours had gone by when Iona relieved the one, lone officer with Kono.

Both men were working through the impossible task of not placing an inordinate amount of self-blame upon their own shoulders. Duke for the obvious and very accidental positioning of Iona within harms way. He then contended with his approval to remove the extra protective details from TAMC-proper. And Steve, for something he couldn't even quite put words to.

The funeral progressed as most law enforcement memorial services until the small retinue of Tripler Army Medical Center doctors and nurses made their presence known. Doctor F.A. Denton was in the fore as he presented a shiny plaque to Keanu Iona's parents. Another would eventually be installed in the ICU at TAMC, but that day's gesture required a public acknowledgment and Denton personally had made it happen to impress upon everyone the young officer's self sacrifice.

Ranks amongst those who knew Iona nearly broke despite official protocol and tradition. Duke's shoulders had visibly sagged and more than a few audible sniffles were heard as a wave of blue shifted.

"Did you know?" Steve whispered to Danny, who was already shaking his head.

"No. Nothing." For the visits to TAMC to see Denton as promised, Danny had never heard of the touching tribute's organization. Moved to his core, he ceased talking to clear his throat for the sudden tightness.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Days later they gathered at Tripler Army Medical Center as the facility installed the permanent memorial just outside the doors of the Intensive Care Unit. The turnout was staggering and brought people who hadn't even personally met Iona. After, the team and a few others convened at Steve's, still trying to offer sensible words to each other. People came and went at will, lingering into the early afternoon hours until the team was left to themselves along with Duke Lukela.

Kono was the one who found out about Al Tortorro and what he'd done at the trial. It wasn't all that difficult once the designed rumors were intentionally permitted to leak to the media. The FBI essentially began to return her calls and reiterate the facts to her as their case wrapped and a startling number of new ones were addressed.

He had given them much more than originally promised. Largely because of him, ten additional men, including the family's consigliere and two capos sent to prison. Based upon what he'd done though, he would not survive the next day, let alone a single month and so Al Tortorro already had disappeared overnight into the Witness Protection Program. Of that, Kono garnered no new information. The team listened with varying degrees of interest to her recitation. As anticipated neither Steve nor Chin personally cared at that point. Only Danny showed a vague interest in the man's continuing welfare, but when he asked, Kono had not been fully advised of his physical recovery though she assumed he was well enough to travel.

Towards sunset, this small group still remained together with an unspoken agreement to continue visiting through dinner. It was quiet, peaceful and there was no reason to separate just yet.

Alone on the beach with Duke, Danny found himself reiterating nearly precisely what he had said once to Iona. As expected, Duke's guilt ran deep and Danny's mild attempt at confrontation to help him cope resulted in a remorseful purge of emotion.

"It's not your fault you know. No one knew what Winston was capable of - no, what that damned family was capable of doing. None of us, Duke. We didn't know." Danny stopped on a dime there, remembering voicing practically the same words and knowing it was all true because everything had been a dismal pre-written orchestration. But they should have known and there was no making up for lost mistakes.

Danny caught himself mid-sentence, stuttered and then simply stopped much to Duke's worried consternation as his friend moved to a different mental zone entirely.

_Keanu Iona was a lot like Duke Lukela._

"What's wrong? Danny?" Duke moved closer sensing that the tables had turned and he was suddenly the confidant. But with his eyes aimed at the distant sun glistening across the ocean, Danny was distracted and beginning to walk away. He would never confess to the Sergeant that Keanu had felt Andrea's escape was his fault. At least, not yet because it would layer another shovelful of guilt on top of what the older man had already begun to bury himself under. Not after what he'd just been told.

"I'll be back. It's nothing." With no more than that as an excuse, Danny began to walk knowing that Duke wouldn't take it personally. At least not too much. His half empty beer bottle was held loosely in one hand as he wandered up the beach with no particular destination in mind. In fact, he wasn't even thinking anymore.

"Boss." Kono had been watching Duke and Danny talk by the shoreline. She made a funny noise when Danny simply walked off, leaving Duke completely alone. Duke's bewildered glance towards the main party on the lanai and then once more to Danny, who was already halfway down the beach, was definitely strange. "Something's up. Maybe? Why would he do that?"

"What?" Engrossed in catering to the grill which was spitting and spewing a sizable amount of impressive food choices, Steve frowned at being pulled away. Refusing to budge for the sake of a perfectly cooked rare steak, he shook his head. Chin was inside filling coolers with ice and Steve couldn't pause to even hazard a guess as to whom or what Kono was referring to.

"Give me more because I'm a little busy here, Kono. Why would  _who_  do  _what_?"

"Danny." Waving her hand widely from Duke to the far away figure, she jutted her chin belligerently at Steve. "Look. He's halfway down the beach."

"He's probably just gone for a walk." Growling under his breath, Steve finally deigned to look up. Danny was literally disappearing into the distance. Muttering under her breath, Kono rolled her eyes skyward as Steve brandished the spatula down the beach. "What happened? Where's he going?"

"We were just talking about Keanu." Duke sighed because that was understood. "Then .. he just .. stopped as if he were a million miles away. He said he'd be back." It was Duke's pensive expression and sudden appearance that Steve came face to face with that got him moving. "I guess he needs space."

"Maybe. But take over." Steve handed Duke the spatula before taking the older man by the shoulders to move him perfectly into place. Pointing directly at the massive, beautifully marinated piece of art on his grill, he was quite adamant before leaving.

"Rare, Duke. Perfectly, rare. Its got two minutes tops."

"You got it, Steve." Smiling, Duke had to laugh. He was also relieved for the simple distraction as he watched Steve carefully pick up a slow limping jog to head off his wayward partner.

"Hey." Danny had heard the panted breaths before Steve opened his mouth just shy of his shoulder. The cast had come off just two days earlier and Steve was reveling in his rediscovered freedom. Muscle memory would return quickly, as would the healthy tan, but for now the evidence of having one leg trapped for weeks on end was more than obvious.

"What's wrong? Duke's worried."

"I'm just walking." Danny sighed petulantly when Steve's hand fell on his shoulder. He didn't much feel like elaborating. "It's not a big deal. I didn't mean to worry Duke. Besides, it's not all that important anymore."

"Of course it's important." Remaining pointedly direct, Steve knew that some memory had spurred Danny on to be moving for a few minutes. It was even understandable since they were all having the off moment .. or even two.

Steve sighed patiently as he measured the faintly haunted eyes and pushed a bit more. "Well?"

Danny rubbed inanely at his face and then shrugged in apology because the sad moment of deja-vu was passing. "I'm fine, Steve. It's just that I had this odd thought that Iona was an awful lot like him. Down to .. well .. practically everything. Including where they placed a crazy amount of self-blame."

"Alike?" Steve frowned because he hadn't quite thought about Iona like that; but his interactions had been a bit different. "I guess." He realized that whatever Duke had said prompted the culprit of a sad memory leaving his partner slightly off balance. They all wanted the fateful mission behind them, but it was going to take time as accidental memories resurfaced from the most innocent of conversations or even the most subtle of sounds.

Accepting the brief explanation, Steve tried to turn them both towards the house. "Let's go, Danno. You didn't need to come all this way."

However, Danny hesitated as certain other thoughts came to mind about where he'd actually walked up the beach; to where they were standing together as the sun began to set more aggressively on the horizon. A particularly major one in fact, because Steve was in therapy and would deny the slight weakness through his leg. He was also supposed to be taking it easy after a rather strenuous PT session experienced earlier that morning.

"Uh, Steve?" Cocking his head, Danny turned to consider his friend.

But Steve had his palm held up in his face to forestall whatever he was about to say. He could virtually feel three sets of concerned eyes boring through his back as they continued their discussion. "Duke is worried, Danny. He said you just upped and left. Is there anything else, because we should go back."

"Nope. That's it." Danny promised, yet his mouth flailed soundlessly once Steve gave him a little shake. Up by the house, he could see three silhouettes blatantly facing his way. He'd accidentally created a small amount of turmoil brought on by his spontaneous amble.

"Alright." Duly scolded and acknowledging his mistake, Danny took a deep breath to let it out slowly. "I shouldn't have done that and I'll apologize."

Steve waited for more, but that was all his partner was planning to offer. He pursed his lips as Danny merely studied him back in kind. He saw the change in subject coming and frowned anew as a finger was lobbed dangerously between them after Danny gauged their distance to the lanai where small puffs of smoke could be seen emanating from the grill.

"What are  _you_  doing?" At first the octave was low and measured, but it escalated when he saw Steve's careful stance and the slight bead of sweat on his brow.

"Don't change the subject." Steve quietly warned with a self-conscious swipe across his face. "I've got nothing to do with this. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Uh huh? Really?" Danny gained ground, digging in firmly to make an entirely new point. He watched fascinated as three additional small beads of sweat traced down the side of Steve's face along his hairline. He glowered when Steve wiped the evidence away on his shirt sleeve.

"You!  _You_  though ..  _you_  should not be walking this far. In deep sand. On a beach! Jogging? Did you actually .. jog? What were you thinking with that knee? You can't just pick up where you left off and carry on like nothing happened!"

Stunned by the sharp-tongued tirade as demonstrative hands followed suit to add import, Steve raised his eyebrows and then folded his arms as his partner finally realized there could be more. "Yup. And I guess you're not done .. are you." Steve smirked as Danny's eyes fell to his waist and then down to his very exposed mis-matched knees. The timing wasn't what he'd expected, but Steve sensed that he was finally going to get the last word this time and the victory was already feeling good. Boldly, Steve hooked a thumb in the empty belt loops and waited for the next storm.

"What are you wearing?" Danny virtually choked the words out as he glared at the offending camo-shorts which he, himself, had created. He fleetingly remembered Keanu's mortified doubt and a smile glimmered by the corner of his mouth at this very different kind of memory. The boy had been a serious soul indeed ..  _yes, much like Duke could be at times_  .. and his reactions to Danny's gleeful act had been priceless.

But then he was swallowing that faint smile to glare at his irritatingly smug partner. Danny's meddlesome prank had been a one time thing .. just a one time deal and yet, they were back on Steve's body. The smile fled just as quickly as he pointed to the thready hacked material where one pocket had been so obviously mutilated in half.

"Those. Why are you wearing .. those .. now?"

"Well." The pause then was almost too long as Steve bounced happily on his toes. "You made them for me, Danno." The snide response was slowly purred out with utter pleasure. "I'm going to wear them every day and often. Just for you."

The outburst of throaty disgusted sound was the most satisfying Steve had ever heard. He turned on his heel then, not even concerned about hiding his slight limp. Over his shoulder, he glanced once and grinned widely for the look plastered across Danny's face.

For once, his partner was speechless. It compounded the satisfaction two-fold and Steve's triumphant smile turned into a deep laugh as he slowly began to walk back to their friends on the lanai.

"Steak's rare, Danno. Let's eat."

_**~ END ~** _


End file.
